The Unbroken Saviour
by ElegantlyDone
Summary: Harry Potter gets captured in his 6th year, only to die and get sent back in time.. with a twist. He is reborn a girl with wild and uncontrollable magic as he tries to stop Voldemort's first rise to power with the help of Dumbledore. Can he change the future? Or is it set in stone?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 1**

Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, heir to an ancient pureblood family, awoke with a guttural cry of anguish. With blurred eyes, lungs burning, and limbs flailing, he sat up raggedly from his supine position as words of an unintelligible nature croaked from parched throat out through his cracked lips.

After the panic subsided, his breath slowed down to a normal rhythm although his heart was still pounding. He stilled after a brief moment and closed his eyes, as if to emulate an anchorite in tranquil meditation, and then with trepidation, opened them.

A low, dim light source that greeted him allowed him to peruse the surroundings with little effort as piercing green eyes that shone in the darkness absorbed every detail they could. The air smelled earthy and damp, akin to the scent of petrichor.

The floor, which Harry was unceremoniously dumped on, was cold, hard, white marble that looked like it has been polished ever so often, as it gave out an opulent tone which screamed affluence.

As he looked around, he saw scores of black wooden shelves stacked neatly against stone walls, everyone one of them full of whirling gizmos and iridescent trinkets that gave off a gentle hum of dark magic as they danced and floated in situ, making Harry shiver with an unidentifiable emotion as their magic caressed him in a gentle ebb and flow.

The slow, methodical sound of dripping water, faintly echoing in the room drew his attention to the soft source of light, which originated from under a steel doorway. The door itself was covered with runes of every shape along its edges, each one glittering and pulsating in varying colours in an arcane manner; but their magic was clear, no one was to leave the room as long as they were active.

With a jolt, Harry put his head between his knees and wracked his brain for answers as to his location and to clear the pervading fog he had on his mind.

 _Fire,_ he gasped his head jerked upright, the images of the previous day aroused in his mind. Hogsmeade was on fire. Not just any sort of fire. _Fiendfyre_. The darkest of magic infused with the primordial essence of fire.

He recalled the shrill screams of desperation and terror as Death Eaters brazenly apparated with soft pops in broad daylight, casting and weaving the foulest of magicks.

 _It was the winter of his sixth year, and he had been with Ron and Hermione in the Three Broomsticks Inn when they first heard the screams._

" _Horcruxes… that's what Dumbledore discussed with me earlier," Harry said earlier quietly as the three of them huddled around one the tables in the corner of the inn._

" _They are artifacts of dark magic. These objects are bound together with soul magic and need to be destr-…" He continued but never finished his sentence as a shill ear-splitting cry filled the air._

 _Harry gasped as he suddenly clutched his head in pain; the scar on his head burning with Voldemort's anticipation._

" _Death Eaters!" He panted, as he stared as his friends in overwhelming dread._

 _They rushed out the entrance wands at the ready, pushing past the stampeding crowd. They then saw black hooded figures wearing silver masks, apparating with pops all around the outskirts of the village until it was completely surrounded. After a brief silence, there was a bellowing command._

" _NOW," A loud, metallic and distorted voice thundered across the region._

 _As if watching synchronized swimming on Muggle television, all the Death Eaters raised their wands and chanted harshly in unison._

 _The world turned orange._

 _Snakes, lions, dragons and other dangerous beasts made out of fire soared and smashed into everything and anything in the village. Screams filled the air as people caught on fire and were trying to put it out in the snow, but to no avail as water nor enchanted water could not douse or have any effect on such dark magic._

 _The Golden Trio were still in a stupor from the unrestrained destruction as the smell of charred flesh wafted over and diffused in the air around them._

 _Harry's stomach heaved as he turned over to the side and fell to his knees as he gagged up the last meal he ate. A trembling hand wiped away the saliva from his chin as stood back up, noticing Ron and Hermione had reacted in the same way._

 _Harry's fury and sorrow grew as he blankly looked at the burnt remains of what were once living and breathing human beings. Suddenly, anger deep within him reared up like a snake. As a multitude of emotions swirled within him, he grip tightened with such intensity on his wand it felt as if the wand would snap from the pressure._

" _Sectumsempra!" Harry screamed as his eyes turned red for a second, pointing his wand at the nearest Death Eater._

 _The same exquisite thrill rushed through him as it once did before when he cast it on Draco in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom earlier in the year._

 _The unsuspecting Death Eater howled in pain as three distinct cuts appeared on his body in a zigzag manner. He fell to the ground twisting and turning as blood gurgled out of his mouth beneath his silver mask while his body was convulsed with pain._

 _As his thrashing body finally stilled, the crimson liquid from his body meandered downwards, with gravity as its guide, staining the pure white snow beneath him._

 _As this was happening, Fiendfyre was running wild and rampant as some casters were not focused enough and lost concentration of the spell – and thus lost control of the conjured beast._

 _An unbounded fiery snake burst out of the shop adjacent to them, throwing debris high up in the air, forcing Harry to throw up a shield charm for cover as burning wreckage pelted him._

 _Eyes still trained on the conjured beast, he saw the path the snake took as it rammed itself against the shop on the opposite side of the street._

 _Harry's eyes widened as he realised the shop contained particularly volatile items and knew what was going to happen. Thinking furiously back to a modified shield charm he once saw in the Half-Blood Prince's book, he cast it in desperation._

" _PROTEGO TOTA-…"_

 _Unfortunately, Harry's area protection shield spell was too slow as the explosion knocked everyone in the vicinity off their feet and dropped them like ragdolls onto the snowy banks._

 _Lying on his back, hot, black smoke was lingering in the air as he coughed painfully when he tried to speak._

" _Ron? Hermione…?"_

 _As Harry was struggling to stand upright, he saw two motionless and blackened figures a distance away from him, framed by the melting and soot-filled snow._

 _One of them had red hair._

 _His heart was in his mouth as he hysterically started crawling towards them, knees scraping against the slushy earth below where the snow had melted._

 _Just as Harry was about to reach them, he heard the crunch of snow behind and someone behind him softly saying, "What do you know, we've found him… " before his world turned to blackness._

A foreboding clamour of noise outside the door broke his introspection and made him immediately jump to his feet, ignoring all the aches he had while trying to reach for his wand which to his last memory, was still in his wand holster. He felt his fingers brush against the coarse leather in the interior of his robes as they grasped empty air.

 _No,_ _where is it?_ Harry thought in horror as the sonance grew louder and he distinguished the recognizable patter of feet.

The steel door swung open with a thunderous crash and in strode a man donned with sleek black and silver robes, white gloves, and carrying a cane under his left arm. He had high aristocratic cheekbones, long blonde hair that extended past his shoulders, and a smirk that loped to one side that Harry would never forget in his lifetime.

All the hate for over the last six years of his life in Hogwarts for this particular family coalesced into a single utterance, "Lucius Malfoy," Harry snarled as he stared at him with loathing.

Harry's heart was pounding; he knew where he was now. He was held in one of the cellars of the prestigious Malfoy Manor. His breath quickened as two robed figures who he had never seen before stepped out behind Lucius to either side, each giving Harry a look as if he was a piece of meat.

A thin pale eyebrow raised delicately as Lucius regarded Harry in amusement. "Potter, I bid you welcome to my humble abode. I'm afraid the next days will prove to be most uncomfortable for you," he drawled.

With a strange glint in Lucius's eye, he continued, "The Dark Lord is preoccupied for the next three days. He will, however, be here soon but he only specified that he wanted you…alive."

He gestured to his left with his gloved hands in a flippant manner.

"This is Rosario Crowe, a famous man in the wizard underworld with a proclivity for… well, you'll soon find out," Lucius leered as the aforementioned wizard gave a full grin, as the full spectrum of his pearly white teeth gleamed in the darkness, promising agonizing pain.

Lucius continued on gaily, tilting his head towards his right, "The other fellow is Travis Wood, one of the best healers in the service of the Dark Lord."

As Harry's face twitched in confusion, Lucius's visage turned ever so slightly more predatory, "After all, it will be very inconvenient for us if you died, no?"

As Harry's mind was still trying to process the information, Lucius briskly turned on the spot and walked back out of the room as quickly as he came only to look over his shoulder to his two companions.

"Make his stay the most comfortable will you?" he said as he shut the door with a final ominous gong that reverberated around the room.

For a few seconds the three of them that were left in the cellar remained silent and did not utter a single word nor move a muscle. The silence was broken as, with a flourish, Rosario pulled out from under his coat, a long, thin and wiry black coil of rope which he held taut in both hands. He turned to face Harry and slowly moved towards him one step at a time, like a hunter stalking his prey.

With each step forward Rosario took, Harry took one step back. His breath grew more ragged and his fear grew exponentially as the reality set in of what position he was in at the moment. His pale, clammy hands were shaking and body trembling, as he felt his back hit the wall of the cellar from his unconscious steps back from the two men in front of him.

"I promise we are going to have _so_ much fun together", Travis half-giggled, half murmured with euphoria shining in his eyes, at the quivering prize that awaited him.

As they pounced on him, Harry screamed and came to know pain like no wizard or witch ever before him had.

* * *

" _Ennervate,"_ A harsh voice commanded as it forced Harry back into consciousness.

Harry's voice had given out from all the screaming over the past three days, but he couldn't help by making a violent start and a noise in his chest at the sight before him. This action caused him to contort his face and blink back tears as he reopened a wound on his back that burned like a flaming knife being twisted under his skin.

Voldemort stood before Harry in all his ophidian glory, enrobed with a black robe with green and golden stripes that seemed to flow and curl around his body akin to a snake. His pale appearance and serpentine nose – or lack of, courtesy of Harry in his fourth year, seemed more grotesque than the last time he saw him.

"Harry… Potter, fate does indeed reward the most ardent," Voldemort chuckled as he enunciated each word carefully and slowly, while observing Harry's crumpled and mangled form on the floor.

"How does it feel Harry, knowing that everything that you have tried to accomplish so far has been for naught?" He continued, knowing that Harry was incapable of speech.

"Think of all the friends you'll let down, all the people on the side of the "light" that will soon see their only hope and saviour a mutilated cadaver, fit only for the crows," Voldemort sibilantly whispered as he stared dispassionately down at Harry.

Harry blanched as mind raced and thought of the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville, Sirius and…

With an exhalation, he thought of that name once more.

 _Sirius._

 _Maybe death isn't so bad, Sirius will be waiting for me, and I can finally meet with my parents._

With one good eye as his other one was swollen shut, Harry mustered up his willpower and weakly glared up at Voldemort in a last stand of defiance while a small smirk played on his lips.

"Complete the prophecy, finish it," Harry painfully wheezed as his throat and lungs burned. Warm, red blood dribbled down his lips onto his ragged and torn robes. He deduced with some morbid amusement that most of the ribs in his body were probably broken.

Voldemort tilted his head and gave a looked at Harry with as his eyes narrowed into deadly slits.

"So willing to join your godfather in death?"

As Harry continued looked at him through one eye, Voldemort looked into his mind using legilimency and true to his word, he found only acceptance of the afterlife in Harry consciousness.

Pure glee erupted in Voldemort.

Victory was so close and he could almost taste it. With Harry and the prophecy gone there would be nothing to stop in his hegemony of the Wizarding world.

"I've won Dumbledore, your golden boy is soon to be dead," Voldemort crowed, lazily raising his phoenix wand to point straight at Harry beating heart.

After a dramatic and mocking bow, he kept his wand level with Harry's heart and cast the only spell known to the Wizarding world that snuffs the life-force out of any organic being.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

Time seemed to slow down for Harry. Everything in his body was in pain and he wanted it to just go away. As his eyes closed in preparation for his next great adventure, he failed to notice that a trinket in the room, which closely resembled an astrolabe, reacted to the cast of the killing curse and flew towards the green beam faster than any snitch.

As it spiralled in the air, it knocked over many other trinkets and caused them to smash into other artefacts. As every item was perturbed, each gave out a different reaction; some swelled twice their size while some pulsated with feral dark magic. As their effects started to overlap with one another, the magic coalesced into single point for a fraction, and then exploded outward with a great force.

Harry and Voldemort both winced and averted their eyes as every colour imaginable seemed to illuminate every corner of the cellar and beams of pure light and darkness were ricocheted off walls.

As this was happening, the initial trinket finally came into contact with the killing curse as it was just about to hit Harry and it exploded into a mist of pure silver that closely resembled a non-corporeal Patronus.

"What…" hissed Voldemort as he tried to raise his wand cast the killing curse once more, amongst the mayhem that was happening at the moment. Tightening the grip on his wand in frustration, he bellowed once more.

" _Avada Ked-…"_

He never finished the cast, as an engulfing wave of magic, combined from all the hoarded trinkets into a volatile amalgamation, poured over him and Harry in a wave of pure and warm light.

Hazily, Harry noticed a strange device hurtling towards him; his eyes that were trained from Quidditch noticed that it vaguely resembled a time turner he once used in his third year.

As Harry's last thoughts were fading into the rapturous darkness, all he could think about was the pain that was disappearing as well.

With one final burst of energy, he grinned.

 _Padfoot, I'm coming._

* * *

Rubeus Hagrid, gatekeeper for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood on top of a hill with arms akimbo in vigil, overlooking the green verdant grounds of Hogwarts that encroached onto the border of the Forbidden Forest.

The evening air was both crisp and refreshing as the half-giant admired the combination of the tall, dark looming trees, framed by a blood-red sunset in the background which presented him a rather beautiful vista.

His reverie was interrupted when a faint noise, that sounded like a crack followed by a sickening crunch, was heard behind him. Hagrid whirled around, black beady eyes scanning the patch of green that lay in-between him and Hogwarts as he tried to locate the source of the noise.

He put his right bulky hand to his brow as he squinted; after looking hard enough, he spotted a small, inanimate black bundle just outside of his house.

Hagrid started jogging with vigour towards this unknown object, which could well be something of a threat to Hogwarts. With laboured breathing and a flushed face, he reached his destination and realised that the black mass was actually a black robe that seemed to be covered in red paint... or blood.

Kneeling down with one leg on the soft and dewy grass, he gingerly pried apart the folds of the soggy robes to see what lay within.

Hagrid sucked in air in a short breath and shuddered at the sight before him. Hagrid had seen many sights in his lifetime, as his work usually took him deep within the Forbidden Forest, but no preparation could have prepared him for this scene.

A young child, no more than ten years old lay unmoving within, covered in fresh wounds and scars of every manner possible as dark magic oozed in undulation from the child's pale skin. With trembling hands, he gently knelt forward and touched one of the child's inner wrists to check for a pulse.

For a few seconds there was nothing, and Hagrid was one the verge of being tearfully convinced that it was a corpse.

Then, with came a very faint beat – but barely.

 _The child is alive!_

With grim determination and a quash on his emotions, he tensed his shoulders as he gingerly picked up the child in his sizable arms and made a dash towards the castle with a haste that could only achieved through adrenaline.

 _Focus Hagrid, don' yeh dare trip_. Hagrid pithily thought to himself, as he bounded up staircases and made for the hospital wing as quick as legs could take him while making sure that the child wasn't jostled around during the journey there.

"POPPY, THIS CHILD NEEDS YER HELP." Hagrid roared as he finally reached his destination and burst through the doors of the hospital wing.

The said woman, who had been who had been standing right behind the doorway jumped out of her skin at Hagrid's sudden arrival. Poppy pursed her lips and glared at Hagrid and was about to sharply reply for his loudness, but as she stared down at the heap cradled in Hagrid's arms her retort dies on her lips.

She blanched, and the features on her face turned grave as she immediately took out her wand from a pouch by her waist.

"Put the patient on this bed, quickly!" She hurriedly pointed to the closest bed to her since the hospital wing was empty.

Hagrid shuffled over to the bed and gently laid down the child on the white, clean bed and stepped back.

After waving her wand to cast a few quick diagnostic charms, she gave a gasp and widened her eyes in horror at the mix of colours that created a polychromatic halo that looped around the bed.

"This child… has been subjected to many dark curses and much physical trauma very recently," Poppy said in a trembling voice to Hagrid.

After a few moments of silence, her visage morphed into fierce determination. With steely fire in her eyes, she rolled up her sleeves.

"Inform Albus of the situation immediately. It's still the school holidays so he should be in his office at this time."

"Tell him he is not to interrogate our guest until after the curses have been removed," Poppy continued with a tone of warning in her voice as she started gathering the potions she needed from the cabinet opposite the bed.

Hagrid nodded vigorously enough to make his cheeks wobble. "Prob'ly for the bes'."

She waited for Hagrid to leave before she took a deep breath and turned a critical eye to the frail form of her patient. Poppy wracked her brain for answers as she could not recognize half of the curses that lingered on the body.

She needed to fix the immediate threats; she promptly pointed her wand at the side of the child only to mutter.

" _Curare Ossis_!"

She watched as a golden mist burst out from her wand and coated the skin as it tried to seep through the body to fix broken bones.

Giving it a few seconds, she quickly cast a diagnosis spell which to her horror, showed her spell did little to no effect on the body.

 _Why is the bone not repairing?_ She pondered, putting one hand on her chin as she started thinking furiously for answers as to why her spell failed.

 _It seems that one of these curses seems to be hindering the growth and stability of the bone marrow and simultaneously creating negative pressure inside the bone to make it collapse on itself._

 _Very ingenious – and painful._ Poppy eyes narrowed as she decided to tackle this from another angle.

Deciding her patient needed a full physical check first, Poppy undressed her patient and jerked backward in shock as she saw thin lines of criss-crossing scars across the entire torso and back.

 _These looks like wounds from enchanted wire or rope infused with some sort of variation of the Mordant charm, a spell that causes sharp biting lines on the surface of physical objects._

As her eyes strayed upwards she brushed aside hair to reveal an old scar shaped like a lightning bolt.

"An old scar, but definitely a cursed scar," She murmured to herself as she traced her finger down it.

With so much unknown magic at work she was at a loss at what spell to cast in what order to reverse the dark curses.

Poppy then did something that she hadn't done in a long time, ever since she had healed soldiers tainted with demonic magic from the war with Grindelwald.

She interlaced her knuckles together and cracked them as one in one swift motion, the popping noise from her joints echoing around the empty hospital wing.

"Time is of the essence," She muttered with resolve as she shook her hands and gathered her magic reserves and readied the most powerful healing spells she knew.

Poppy stared with pity at the face of her patient, which almost had an angelic look, as she readied her wand.

"Poor girl."

* * *

A/N: This is my first fic, so criticism is very much welcome! There is much more to come and I hope you will enjoy this as much as I do writing it!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 2**

Harry gave a large groan as he woke up with eyes still closed. He blinked blearily with his head still on the floor; rubbing his eyes in a drained manner as blinding white light flooded his senses, penetrating even through his eyelids. When he grudgingly opened his eyes, he saw nothing but a gentle illumination of omnipresent light that seemed to originate from all around him in every direction, softly hitting him.

After a few seconds, the irises in his pupils instinctively contracted to adjust for the amount of light. Still dazed, he used his palms to push his body off the ground at he stared at his surroundings in wonder, not even noticing that all the pain was gone.

He seemed to be at a carbon copy of the King's Cross Station, at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters specifically. Everything looked the same, even down to the ancient cracks and crumbs of the yellowing bricks that arched and lined the station in seemingly never-ending layers.

The Hogwarts Express lay on the train tracks in all its glory, its head end painted in a shimmering black while the rest of the body was took on a deep garnet hue. He stood transfixed, as white smoke lazily curled in wisps out of the chimney and breezed into the sky where they were soon lost.

Nostalgic memories flooded back as he realized this was the place where his life had properly begun. This was the place where he escaped the hell of the Dursleys. This place was his first proper induction into the world of magic, to a world of adventure, mystery, romance, friends – and family.

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as his trance was broken by the screams of a wailing baby. With curiosity and befuddlement as to what was happening, he gravitated towards the noise and knelt down on the stone surface as he gazed upon the ugliest baby he had ever seen, curled up beneath one of the benches in the train station crying its heart out.

The infant was grotesque in every manner known to man. Misshapen and contorted, it was truly an abomination; it was entirely covered in patches of blood and was so emaciated you could count every bone in the body. The face looked old and young as the same time, as certain features in its face set alarms off in Harry mind, but he could not recall or identify what it resembled.

As he stared at the hideous sight, he failed to hear someone approach softy from behind as the cries from the baby drowned out everything else.

"He is a part of you, you know."

The cries stopped immediately as the baby raised his unnatural head and glared over Harry's shoulder with palpable hatred at the presence of the new arrival.

Harry gasped as he whirled around and recognized the silver bushy beard of his headmaster.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood behind him in grand purple robes, adorned with miniature moons and sparkling stars stitched into the fabric that seemed to dance in the light. He ignored the greeting and continued as if Harry never spoke.

"Look at the baby closely Harry, what can you see, what can you _sense_."

Harry glanced back down at the quiet baby as it stared angrily at Albus. He noticed that the eyes, a brilliant red, now carried so much hatred, so much loathing, and so much _fear_.

As his scar gave a small twinge, it all clicked.

"Voldemort," He whispered in disgust as he looked at Albus for confirmation.

Albus' sky blue eyes twinkled as he gave a confirmatory nod, the moon-spectacled glasses on his nose bouncing in response to the action.

Finally, the mist cleared in Harry's mind could think clearly for the first time since he arrived in this bizarre place.

"Am… am I dead?" Harry stammered as looked down and carefully patted down his body realizing that all his wounds had vanished, the pain taken along with them.

Albus' heavenly blue eyes lost their twinkle. His face grew mournful as he gave a great sigh, his aura of invincibility absent as he now just looked like a tired old man yearning for a respite from all hardships and responsibly.

"You were not supposed to die so soon Harry, but somehow you have overruled the iron fist of fate itself."

"So I'm dead? What has fate got to do this this?" Harry replied with bewilderment, looking down in confusion as the cogs and gears in his brain started whirling.

Blood rushed in his ears as he tilted his face upwards in dismay, looking straight at Albus while he started rambling.

"Wait… that means you are dead too? You were alive just a few days ago, how did you die?! What is-…"

"My dear boy, I am not dead," Albus softly answered.

"Fate itself has forced my presence to be here. The threads of fate are now mangled, and are slowly but surely causing a chain reaction of catastrophic consequences."

"With my presence as Headmaster gone and your death now publically known, Voldemort is taking over the wizarding world as we speak, killing all that disobey him," Albus finished, his eyes strangely bright with emotion.

Harry stared at him in shock, "Please tell me you're lying," He whispered as his breath hitched and as he started swaying on the spot.

A forlorn look from Albus' lifeless eyes was all he needed.

He shook his head in wild disbelief as he started pacing up and down agitatedly; hands tearing at his hair as he internally ruminated. The weight of the world had just crashed down upon his young shoulders.

 _No, no, NO… this wasn't supposed to happen. I could have saved everyone. This is my entire fault. If I could start over I would not make the same mistakes twic-…_

"You could you know," Albus said quietly as he interrupted Harry train of thought.

"Could what?"

"Start over."

"But I was thinking that, how could yo-…"

"Perhaps it is not my place to tell" Albus murmured as he interrupted Harry for a second time, the idiosyncratic twinkle return with full force, giving life to his tired eyes.

Albus was about to elucidate the situation to Harry until a strange force started pulling him at his hands. Looking down, he noticed his hands had a slightly transparent appearance, like the shimmer of fine gossamer fabric.

"I'm sorry Harry, but it looks the time is up for me. It has been an absolute joy knowing you and I want you to know I had never intended for you to be unhappy or hurt." As Albus was talking, the strange glittering was slowly spreading to his entire body.

"I'm just an old man who has made a lot of mistakes," Albus quietly finished, as he walked over to Harry and placed a gentle translucent hand on his shoulder while giving a genuine and warm smile, which made Harry gave one in return.

As his whole body started to shimmer and fade away, a ghostly voice whispered in his last moments, "Don't worry… someone else will be here for you before you leave. Farewell my dear boy."

"ALBUS!" Harry frantically yelled as he tried to grab the wispy remnants of his headmaster in the air.

He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but the last thing he saw was a ghostly face that looked both wise and gentle, wink at him before vanishing into thin air.

Harry was no ordinary teenage boy; he was a fighter and a survivor with a hero complex that no force on earth could extinguish. But there could be only so much emotional stress a teenage boy could handle before he broke.

He dropped to his knees, tears flowing as he cried for the first time in years. He thought of all the people that died because of him, families losing their fathers, mothers, son and daughters in a futile struggle against the tide of destruction that was Voldemort.

His grief was so intense that he missed the arrival of another person shimmering into existence.

"Hey pup, you missed me that much?" A voice next to him said, with unrestrained laughter in the voice.

Harry stilled for a second as his emotions ran high, and slowly turned around to face the voice of a man he would never forget.

"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed, with tears still in his eyes as he got up and rushed over to fiercely hug the man he considered his father.

The reason he loved Sirius so much was because when someone tried to befriend him, they were always befriending him because he was The-Boy-Who-Lived, or because he was the heir to the ancient Potter legacy or some other trivial reason. Sirius was the first person to befriend and love him for being just Harry.

Sirius looked the same as the last time he saw him. Wavy black hair that extended to his shoulders gleamed naturally in the light as he wore a brown and striped overcoat over a dark blue shirt, complemented by long and frayed black pants.

Sirius returned the hug with full force before pulling back to look at Harry with tender grey eyes, full with love for his godson.

"Before I start, there are certain people that you need to meet. We've been discussing all the trouble and mischief you've been up to for quite some time now," Sirius said as his eyes sparkled with excitement as he ruffled Harry's clothes to make him look more presentable.

Stepping back, he moved to the side to let Harry catch sight of the two people waiting behind him, a man and woman whom he loved as much as he did Harry.

Harry glanced at the two figures and froze as a rush of emotions surged through him, diluting every fibre of his being. The blood drained from his face as his legs refused to work properly. He lurched as he took staggered steps forward, with a trembling arm stretched out in front of him, as if to grasp something precious.

Back in his fourth year he only saw the ghostly figures of this man and woman. This seemed so much more real than in the fourth year of with his duel with Voldemort. This seemed like they were _here_ with him.

"Mom… Dad?" Harry weakly breathed as he stumbled towards them, every instinct clouded over.

The most beautiful woman Harry had ever laid eyes on looked at him through bright green eyes with an intensity that if any stronger, would be capable of burning a hole right through him. Standing next to her was an older and more rugged version of him, hazel eyes glinting with love and mischief as they both held out their arms to their only son.

"My baby boy."

"Son."

When he finally reached them, he collapsed into both their arms, sobbing as he felt a strange type of love that he had never experienced before rise up within him like an unquenchable fire. He tightened his grip on his parents and knew whatever the future would bring, this moment would be a memory he would never ever forget.

* * *

"So what you're saying is, I was supposed to die next year and I've messed up because I died prematurely? And you're also saying that fate needs me to fix the mess I have created or else there are dire consequences?" Harry slowly repeated as he stared at his parents, James and Lily Potter, in disbelief.

Harry, Sirius and his parents had been catching up for the past few hours and they had regaled him with stories of their youth. They had saved the crux of the conversation for last.

Flaming red hair bounced and flickered in the light as Lily dismally nodded, her white tea-length dress flowing around her like water around a rock. The thought of her precious son going through more trials and tribulations gave her no joy.

Harry's face turned defiant as thought about the situation.

"But I want to stay here... with you guys."

"I'm sorry Harry; your life has always had hardship, but there is no choice in the matter," James tiredly replied, taking Harry's hand in his. Lily and Sirius both joined in and put their hands on Harry's, their warmth both soft and comforting.

All of a sudden, a loud gong resonated in the air and echoed around the train station. The Hogwarts Express suddenly roared into action as it starting to move as the walls begun crashing down around it. The place was falling apart as fate itself ripped a hole through reality.

Similar to Albus earlier, their skin started to turn glassy and see-through.

"No, I want to stay," Harry pleaded again in terror as they started fading away. He had only just met his parents and the thought of leaving them a second time sent waves of despair through him.

"We will meet again soon enough, you'll see. We will always love you, remember that Harry," Lily said tenderly as their hands were still on his.

James and Sirius looked at him, as debris rained down on them but harmlessly passing through them.

"Make me proud son," James said with heart-warming smile on his face.

"Pup, you take care," Sirius finished as he gave his trademark wink, both of their hands still on his.

The warmth Harry once felt was fading fast as he tried to grab their hands once more, but ended up with nothing but silver mist percolating through his hands. As he tried to cry out one more time, he failed to notice an enormous stone dropping dislodge itself from the ceiling and fall straight towards his head.

The last image he saw was three smiling faces melting away, each one showing nothing but raw emotion. As the boulder just about to hit Harry, he felt strangely calm, as if he knew with absolute certainty that he would once again see them.

* * *

"…- _ould be_ _dead if she wasn't found sooner Albus, we have to thank Hagrid for saving this young girls life. Thi-..."_

"… _-hat she is very likely to wake up soon, I had to visit St. Mungo's for help with some of these curses…"_

Harry slipped in and out of consciousness for a few days, hearing bits and pieces of conversations, before his mind registered his need to wake up. When he finally was ready, he opened his eyes, only to wince and shut them again quickly due to the harsh glare of bright lights. He groaned with amusement as he realized he had experienced so many of these scenarios recently.

His groan sounded a bit off but didn't pay any attention to it as he opened his eyes and blinked, trying to reach for his glasses. After a few seconds he realized with astonishment that he could see with absolute clarity without the need for glasses.

Curiously, he sat up and turned his head from left to right in an owl-like fashion to decipher where he was. With a jolt, he realised that he was in the empty hospital wing in Hogwarts, tucked under a thin white blanket while wearing a white hospital gown.

Beside his bed there was a crumpled newspaper from the Daily Prophet, with obvious signs that it had been previously read. He reached over and picked it up with both hands and squinted in confusion as his eyes were drawn first to the date.

 _1976, did they get the date wrong? It should be 1996. That's 20 years ago._

As his brain was catching up with the situation, he noticed how thin his arms were as they clutched the newspaper. Harry was by no means large or bulky but the willowy size was too unnaturally small. This set some alarms bells off in his head.

As he glanced down to read the article on the front page, his eyes widened when a swathe of jet black hair tumbled down from the top his head, coming to a stop just below his navel. Caught by surprise, he yelped and instinctively tried to leap out of the hospital bed, but failed as the blanket was holding him in place.

An explosion of unbearable pain in his back caused him to scream in pain, as if there was an ever-burning fire blazing, burning and spreading all across him. With fingers digging into his palms, tears fell down his eyes as the pain hit in new waves as he lay down on his side, which caused him to bite his lips so hard they bled.

Just as the pain was about to overpower him and render him unconscious, a fuzzy figure rushed over to him only to hastily shove a potion down his raw throat and cast minor healing charms on his palms and lips where the skin was torn.

After a good second, all the pain vanished as swiftly as it came, leaving Harry to tiredly fall back down in bed as the empty vial fell softly on the bed.

A soft and welcoming voice floated through the air as a young Madam Pomfrey's face swam into view, concern etched upon it.

"Are you in still in pain dear?"

Still dazed, he shook his head.

"It's a blessing that you woke up this early into the treatment; you need to be awake to ingest some of these numbing and skin reparation potions ," The Mediwitch said with a sigh of relief as she readied more potions for consumption.

As memories of what the two madmen did to him in Lucius' house flooded back, he clenched his teeth and shuddered in fear, wondering what sort of magic they could have used to turn his figure into something so different.

"M-mirror, I need a mirror please," Harry whispered, his voice strangely high and shrill but he was too worn out to care.

"Potions first," The Mediwitch argued briskly, as she handed him a tray with an array of differently shaped vials, each one filled with liquids swirling around with different viscosities. Not recognizing any of them – as potions wasn't his strongest subject; he conceded and gulped down all of them, one after the other, grimacing periodically as some tasted worse than the Polyjuice Potion he drank in his second year.

"Now, if you can stand, I'll take you to a mirror." Poppy said in a much gentler tone as she put the tray with the vials away and proffered her right hand to him. Harry shyly smiled and locked hands with her as he felt no pain at all, even when the balls of his feet bounced on the floor as he got out of the bed.

Harry was dumbfounded. He had never seen the Mediwitch interact like this to anyone in that sort of tone or manner, despite frequenting the hospital wing every year for six years.

As they reached a full body mirror in the corner of the hospital wing, Harry let out a shaky breath, as a stranger stared back at him with sparkling and vivid green eyes. He let go of Poppy's hand as studied his reflection anxiously.

Long and shiny black hair cascaded elegantly from the top of his head, past a soft and round head, pert nose and red lips, down to his midriff. Pale and creamy skin, that showed no signs of scaring or damage, seemed to shine ethereally, even in the presence of the bright lights. His lithe figure complemented by his short stature, along with his wide eyes, framed by thick black eyelashes, showed promise of an unmatched beauty in the future.

 _A girl. Fate turned me into a girl._

Harry's face reddened as he hesitated to perform the next action, simply because someone was watching. Shaking his head in defeat because he realized Poppy was most likely the one who undressed him. He slowly unfastened the hospital gown at his nape and let it fall to his waist as he saw the product of his stay at Malfoy Manor.

Countless thin white scars overlapped with each other on his flat chest, as pink and ragged looking ones intersected them at an oblique angle. Harry shivered as he recalled them experimenting one night with an enchanted pair of scissors. As he turned around to view his back, he looked over his shoulder only to find black scars in a criss-cross manner that seemed to glow and pulsate with dark magic.

Poppy's face held a look of undying pity.

"The pain will fade eventually and some of the scars will heal… however some might not," She delicately revealed, trying not to frighten the young girl in front of her.

"In regards to the scars on your back, regular doses of the Anti-Mordant Potion that our resident potion master, Professor Slughorn has created in the short time you have been here, should eliminate the lingering magic."

Harry wasn't listening. His brain was busy churning out ideas at a frightening speed; a speed that he didn't even know was possible.

Harry was by no means a stupid person. His scores for exams weren't the highest because he had always emulated Ron's characteristics of laziness. He didn't want to lose the friendship he had with the first friend he made, so he made sure that he copied Ron's idle disposition so Ron would always see companionship with him. Harry actually had a very cunning and intelligent side to him. If Draco Malfoy had not interacted with him and Ron in his first year, he would have without a doubt ended up in Slytherin.

 _Everything adds up now. I've been sent 20 years into the past with another chance to defeat Voldemort. I will not fail anyone, not this time._

Poppy regarded the young girl as she quietly stopped looking at the mirror to fasten her hospital gown back up.

"I will not ask you anything nor force you to say something you don't want," Poppy started, sympathy filling her voice.

"But I just want to ask one question. You can stay silent if you want," She continued.

"What is your name?"

Harry violently started and looked at the Mediwitch in consternation as he mind went blank.

All of a sudden, as if a light was turned on in his head, he replied with conviction as a soft lilting voice carried around the entire room.

"Ariana… My name is Ariana."

* * *

A/N: Now that I've got the whole story mapped out in my head, writing this is three times quicker! Any sort of criticisms for loopholes, plot, grammar, or characters is greaty appreciated if you have any!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 3**

Golden rays of warm light spilled into the hospital wing from the windows. Undeviating sunshafts illuminated minute dust particles floating carelessly in the air as the faint cry of a rooster broke the tranquil silence, heralding the start to a new day.

Harry was already up long before that, as he had went straight to sleep after his brief conversation with the Mediwitch the day before.

Still dressed in a hospital gown, he got up early and had been stealthily sneaking about the hospital wing looking for newspapers, books, and other sundries that could give him a clue as to what was happening in the current world, keeping an ever watchful eye on the door for the presence of Poppy, as he knew of her legendary tendencies to keep patients confined to their beds while they were still convalescent.

 _At least my footsteps are much quieter_ _now._

Small feet covered in striped blue socks padded soundlessly across the cold stone floor as he climbed back onto his bed, a hoard of crinkled newspapers stacked tightly under his arm as he set them down on the desk beside him. He pulled the first one towards him and began to skim through it.

Just as he was just about to flip through the pages, a noise that resembled the shuffling of feet outside the room caused him to hastily stow the purloined newspapers into the top drawer of the same desk, crumpling and squashing them together in a disorderly manner.

The brown and sturdy wooden doors creaked open slowly as a wary face peeked into the hospital wing. Cool blue eyes surveyed the room until they rested on Harry, who was wide awake. Something akin to relief flooded through those eyes as Madam Pomfrey opened the doors fully and walked in with a bag containing another batch of potions.

"Good morning Ariana, you're just in time for your potions," Poppy pleasantly greeted as she unfastened the hatch from the top of a grey cubed shaped satchel that was hanging from her side. She brought out the same potions as the ones he previously had and lined them up in a specific order for Harry on a wooden tray.

Harry couldn't help but make a face at the sudden presence of the potions this early in the morning. Poppy must have sensed something as she gave a small smile.

"I know they don't taste very nice, but I promise they will help you," she gently encouraged, popping the cork out of the first potion in the queue and she handed it to Harry.

"After you're done with them, you can have some breakfast that had been prepared for you," she continued as she put a transparent salver down next to Harry, making his mouth water as on it laid steaming buttery toast accompanied by a glass of warm milk.

With mild aversion, he started to imbibe the potions as preordained by the matron. Just as he picked up the last potion, he noticed that it was a Pepper-Up Potion. He eyed the perfectly brewed potion with appreciation and felt the warmth flood across his body after swallowing the liquid, the deep taste of ginger lingering in his mouth.

With purpose in mind, he decided that it would be a useful potion to know to how brew.

 _I'll just ask Hermione for help later._ He instinctively thought as he picked up and daintily munched down on warm and crumbly toast.

He froze.

It was as if a dam had burst in the dusty recesses of his mind, inundating his senses and overloading them with a rush of flashing images and sounds.

With wide eyes, he screamed as memories he had unconsciously repressed assaulted him and rushed through his head with terrifying speed, the half-eaten piece of toast falling out of his stiff hands.

 _Ron, Hermione, Albus, Sirius, Mom, Dad… everyone I have ever cared for is gone._

Feeling utterly alone for the first time in a long time, his vision flickered as his breath grew shaky and his fists clenched tightly. He felt his magic stir within him, like a ravenous wild beast waiting to feast on succulent prey.

Trembling, he tried to pull his magic back to his core, but gasped when he felt it slip out of his control and surge out of him.

Poppy was blasted several metres back to the floor as the first wave of uncontrollable white magic erupted from him. The beds in the hospital wing started vibrating back and forth, akin to a rattle being shaken ferociously by a baby. Windows, vials and mirrors all shattered into thousands of pieces simultaneously as another wave of magic emanated from him and blasted through the hospital wing. The area was just on the verge of destruction as the hospital doors blasted open and figure pointed a wand at Harry.

A familiar voice roared above the cacophony of creaks and groans that every object in the room seemed to emit.

" _TELLUS MOTUS!"_

A bright beam of orange rushed towards Harry and hit him dead centre on the chest, reaching deep within him. Every sound ceased as the levitating objects froze in place in the air. After a second, as one, all the debris fell down after their brief suspension to the floor of the hospital wing with a reverberating crash.

Harry felt his magic unwillingly retreat back to his core, forcefully funnelled by the new unknown spell that had been cast on him.

Ignoring the debris coating him, his heart thundered like a drum in his ears as he leapt off his bed and immediately scrambled towards the downed figure of Poppy, ignoring the presence of the person who had saved the day.

Tears dripped down his pretty face as he scrunched it up in misery. He dropped to his knees to hold her motionless head as it lolled in his hands, knowing that once again he was responsible for hurting another person. His saviour approached slowly from behind as the crunching sound of feet drew closer.

"Move aside child," A soft voice behind him lightly commanded.

Recognizing the voice, Harry sniffled as he slowly disengaged himself and crawled back from the Mediwitch. He watched as a younger Albus Dumbledore knelt down and murmured an incantation he could not recognize while waving his wand in a convoluted manner.

 _What is happening to me? Why can't I control my magic or emotions?_

"Madam Pomfrey… is she..?" Harry whispered in dread, adrenaline still running high even after Albus had finished waving his wand.

"First, let me see your legs," Albus said is a no-nonsense tone as he glanced with concern towards Harry's thin legs.

He looked down and sucked in air rapidly and blanched at the sight. The path from his bed to the Mediwitch was covered in blood as he hasn't noticed that shards of glass that once littered the floor were now lodged in his legs and feet.

As the adrenaline was wearing off, he almost felt the pain hit but not before a powerful voice had chanted.

" _Episkey Maximus!"_

Harry refused to wince as he clenched his teeth in pain, the powerful healing spell pushing the shards of glass out of his body and sealing the wounds as they all finally exited his body, the fragments tinkling like a broken xylophone as they hit the floor.

He breathed lightheadedly as the world seemed spin around him for a brief period. After steadying his breath to calm down, he looked at Albus expectantly, with large green eyes in supplication.

Albus looked at the trembling young girl before him, his sky blue eyes clashing with emerald green eyes that were filled with so much compassion and guilt.

"She's only unconscious. Once she wakes up, she should be totally fine."

Harry exhaled noisily in relief and gave a brief smile of elation.

Immediately after calming his nerves, he fired off another question.

"What was that spell?"

"That was a more powerful version of the spell _Episkey_ , a spell that heals minor wounds."

Harry visibly swallowed as he nervously and unconsciously played with his long black hair, "No… I meant the first one."

A shadow crossed Albus' face for a fraction of a second before answering quietly. "It is one of my own creations. I had to invent due to… certain circumstances in my youth. It is a spell that I have told no one about, due to the fear that it might be abused if wielded in the hands of someone who means to do harm. It is a spell that temporarily nullifies the natural flow of magic and forces it back into the magical core. A powerful witch or wizard with a larger magical core may fight against this this but a lesser one can do nothing against it."

Harry's brow furrowed and a frown appeared on his red lips as he absorbed the information. With foreboding, he twisted his head look around at the once pristine hospital.

Remnants of the once immaculate and white curtains that framed the windows lay shredded and strewn across the room in a haphazard manner under debris, like the torn sail of a sinking ship. Wooden chairs, tables, armoires and desks were scattered on the floor of the hospital wing, each one broken, splintered and abused from the intense magic that manhandled it, as the potions they once housed coated the walls and floor with a shimmering mess.

As Harry looked down, he twitched as he realized the entire hospital wing was covered in the vestigial traces of the windows, glasses and mirrors that once gave character to the room.

Harry turned to Albus, who was silently watching him.

"What is happening to me?" Harry finally cried out, his high voice quavering with emotion.

"After your recent injuries, it seems that outbursts of intense emotion are tied to your magic as powerful and destructive bouts of accidental magic," Albus concluded as he stood up, using a wrinkled hand to dust himself clean as he held his wand in the other.

Once he got the majority of the dust off his robes, he silently cast a quick _Wingardium Leviosa_ spell on Madam Pomfrey as he looked calmly at Harry.

"My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding, of which you are now recuperating in."

"That being said, may I know your name my dear?" He continued.

Harry bit his lip and looked away as he stammered, "A-Ariana."

Dumbledore was caught completely off guard and gave a start as he almost lost concentration on the levitational spell on Poppy. As he looked at Harry with eyes that seemed to be full of self-loathing, the fleeting emotion in his face disappeared as quickly as it came.

Not knowing why name he gave Albus distressed him and unable to lie to someone whom he truly cared about, he blurted out, "I promise I will tell you everything once I have recovered."

Curiously, Albus used legilimency to prod only the surface of Harry's mind and found only love and trust towards him.

Surprised, he jerked back and looked as the eyes of the child before him, seeing only earnestness.

Shaken and bemused, Albus nodded in acceptence while looking around the ruined room. "Very well, but let's clean this place up first," only now noticing how powerful the magic that destroyed the hospital wing had been.

* * *

It had only been a few hours since the destruction occurred, but the protean nature of magic was not to be underestimated as it had cleaned up all the mess by that time the regal grandfather clock in the hospital wing hit noon. Everything was set back in their rightful positions, bar the potions that had been destroyed as they had been vanished using the convenient cleaning spell _Scourgify_.

Poppy had woken up just moments before the hospital wing was repaired and had a glimpse of what her young charge was capable of. The second she woke up, Harry, who had been waiting by her bedside, had launched into grief-stricken pleas for forgiveness.

Poppy would have none of Harry's tearful apologies and waved it off and told him she chalked it up as one the many hazards in the healing profession. It took a while for her conciliatory approach to console the expressive young girl, but she accomplished it in the end.

Thoroughly mellowed, Harry meandered back to his fully repaired bed with tenseness in his shoulders. As he lay his head down onto a lumpy pillow and stared blankly at the chiaroscuro of the stone ceiling, he began musing.

 _If this is 1976, then Lily and the Marauders should be in their sixth year when school starts up again in a few weeks._

Harry chewed his lip in disquietude, knowing that even though he loved them unconditionally - minus Wormtail, the feeling would not be mutual since they did not even know of his existence.

 _Whatever the future holds, I will protect all of them,_ he vowed. _Not just them, but everyone in the Wizarding World whom I have failed before._

As his mind wandered off at a tangent, he considered the power of his knowledge of the future.

 _What should I tell Albus, everything?_

Using a Muggle phrase Harry had once heard, 'speak of the devil' was an apposite response as Albus, with a slight spring in his step, entered the hospital wing as he strode towards Harry with a sense of purpose in his demeanour. In his hands he was carrying a silver bracelet that seemed plain and dull at first glance, but as it drew closer, Harry could sense substantial power radiating from it.

Albus' lips curved into an amiable smile as he reached Harry, forgoing a greeting as he launched straight into an informative discourse.

"The effects of my spell are going to wear off soon; you will need to wear this bracelet instead. It was originally used as punishment for magical criminals centuries ago as it blocked their ability to wield magic, but nowadays this item is considered dark by the Ministry and is therefore banned. However, I have a modified one that only absorbs magic when it reaches a certain threshold, such as accidental magic," Albus announced, still standing, as held out his hand for Harry to take it.

Harry gladly took it from Albus and slowly put it on his left wrist as he rubbed a thumb over it, feeling the indent of an inscription carved on it.

"For how long, Professor?"

"I do not know… Ariana," he answered with hesitation as the he uttered Harry's self-imposed name, "Maybe until your magical core stops growing, or maybe even tomorrow."

As Harry held up the bracelet more closely to his face, he squinted and saw the faint inscription that spelt out a name in cursive.

 _Ariana._

Quizzically, he turned back to face Albus with an incredulous look.

"Professor, you engraved my name onto this bracelet?"

The twinkle in his sky blue eyes faded away as once again the look of self-loathing returned. Albus desperately wanted to change the subject, but as he looked into the eyes of young Harry, the amount of trust he saw in them inexplicably gave him a feeling that could entrust this young girl with his life.

Albus gave a heaving sigh and nonverbally conjured a chair for him to sit. He brought his chair close as he tucked himself right up against Harry's bed with both hands on his head as he collected his thoughts.

"Ariana was the name of my younger sister," Albus started emphatically, with a faint shimmer in his eyes as he raised his head, "When she was six, she suffered a cruel attack that left her without the control of her magical abilities. When she was fourteen, an accidental outburst of magic tragically killed our mother. She died not long after... if only I had finished this bracelet sooner she could have…" Albus faintly trailed off as he refused to finish his narrative.

Harry felt unclean and absolutely disgusted with himself, falsely wearing a name that meant so much to someone so lightly. Squirming, he tried to comfort Albus by say that wasn't his real name, but somehow his tongue wouldn't let him no matter how hard he tried.

Albus did not seem to notice the internal struggle Harry was facing.

"This bracelet was meant for her, and now… meant for you, as if fate herself has dictated it," Albus continued as he put one hand on Harry's and squeezed gently before releasing.

Harry flinched when he heard the word _fate_.

Albus ignored the curious gesture and decided it was time to stop avoiding the question he and Poppy had been burning to ask for the past day. He sat up straight and gave Harry a serious look as he opened his mouth to ask just a single terse question.

"Who did this to you?"

Harry made a choking sound in the back of his throat as he instinctively clutched the blanket around him and he tried to cover himself.

Albus gently grasped the blanket from Harry and slowly lowered it as he murmured reassuringly, "You don't have to say anything, but we need to know who did this," as he looked straight into Harry's terror-stricken eyes.

Giving Harry a mental push, he used legilimency once more, but this time he dug deeper to get the scene he wanted. For some reason he saw mostly few cloudy images, but he distinctly saw two unfamiliar faces in a dark room that looked both voracious and demented at the same time, both with want in their eyes at a crumpled figure.

"They took potions that let them stay up for days on end, sleep was something I never had when I was there," Harry started, his voice dead and his hands trembling as he hugged his chest; magic deep within him stirring ominously.

Poppy was nearby at a desk seemingly going through some files but unbeknownst to Harry, she was listening attentively from the way her knuckles were turning white as she was gripping the file.

 _Harry whimpered in relief as the healing spells weaved through his lacerated legs, the steady flow of warm blood coming to a halt as it sealed the numerous remnants of trauma on his lifeless legs. He struggled and made a violent noise in protest as his mouth was forced open and a blood-replenishing potion was forced down his tender throat by one of his captors, returning colour to his pale and worn face._

 _A shadowy figure put away a wand-like object, gelatinous blood still dripping steadily from its tip as he tucked it away in the umbrous folds of his robe. A gravelly voice then rudely spoke with an air of mild impatience._

" _Are you done yet Travis?"_

" _Yes… although I do still have one more spell I need to test-… "_

" _NO, IT'S MY TURN," Rosario roared as he interrupted and swung a meaty hand at the temple of_ _ _the speaker_. They locked limbs with one another as they tumbled around the room and broke into a fist fight, their teeth gnashing as spittle foamed at both their mouths while limbs flailed wildly at each other._

 _In the brief madness, Harry tried to crawl on all fours to the door; it was slightly ajar as they had forgotten to close it properly. The carving of runes on the surface devoid of colour as the promise of escape seemed so close._

 _He was about to reach the entrance when suddenly there was silence. A maniacal squeal erupted behind him as he felt two pairs of hands rapaciously grab his legs, dragging him back into the room by his feet, fear clouding his senses as the gap he was so close to was getting farther and farther away._

 _They flung him against the wall and both turned towards him. "You've been a bad boy," Rosario purred, creating a disjointing sight as he was still frothing at the lips. As they dove on him, the last thing Harry heard before they started ripping into his clothes and skin was a psychotic whisper in his ear._

" _You're going to wish you never did that."_

Albus and Poppy both held their breath, lungs paralyzed and faces turning pallid, as they only saw only an innocent young girl, and not a strife-filled man, who had been violated in every manner possible as he was hollowly recounting his ordeal.

Harry did not even realize that he had finished telling everything that happened to him. His emotions heightened as he felt his magical core go into overdrive. The newly worn silver band started heating up and burn intensely, searing his skin as it strained and struggled to absorb the overwhelming amount of magic his being was presently radiating.

Heartbeat racing, as if on the verge of exploding out of his chest as it palpitated wildly, he forced himself to calm down as he firmly grasped on his magic and wrenched it inwards, spluttering as the effort caused him to break out in a cold sweat.

The evanescence of his magic continued, until finally the heat from silver band on his wrist dissipated, leaving a ring of raw skin around the area.

With a shuddering breath, he fell back onto the bed spent, hair flowing in all directions, as dark rings appeared around his eyes on his pale face from the inner battle he just fought.

A look of unadulterated fury lay barely repressed in Albus' eyes at Harry's vignette. He glanced down and waved a hand in the air and cast a silent and wandless healing spell that soothed and healed the torus shaped burn on Harry.

Coming to a decision, he waited until Harry's delicate form had stopped shaking before saying anything.

"How old are you Ariana?" Albus intoned, swiftly changing the topic.

As if Harry had intrinsically known this fact all his life, he couldn't stop himself as he blurted out, "I'll turn eleven this year."

"Do you have a home to go back to?" Albus responded, after a brief pause.

Harry saw the implied question in enquiry and responded softly as he thought about the people he had met in the afterlife.

"No sir, my parents are dead, I have no family left."

Albus' next sentence held a funny tone which Harry could not decipher.

"Would you like to stay at Hogwarts in the meantime? I have a quiet and comfortable room that I think you would like very much."

Harry's eyes lit up, enraptured by the thought of staying in a place where he would soon meet everyone.

"Yes Professor, I would like that very much indeed," he shyly responded, face flushed with pleasure.

Albus then turned serious as he eyed to the puzzling enigma in front of him.

"I want to be very frank with you. Without this bracelet, you will be a danger to everyone and yourself." He continued, caution lacing every word.

"Can I have a promise from you to never take it off, despite the situation?"

As Harry solemnly nodded, all Albus saw was no one but his beloved sister in the brave face that stared back fervently into his. Old wrinkled hands unyielding tightened their grip on the cold, steel handles of the hospital bed where Harry lay.

 _I will save you this time Ariana, I swear on my life._

* * *

Unable to sleep later that night, Harry stood in front of the repaired mirror with his hospital gown unfastened at the nape, letting it fall down to his waist in a similar manner as yesterday. A sliver of moonlight splashed on him through an arched window, igniting the silvery hues of the mirror.

He slowly traced the fading scars on his nascent chest with a slender finger, marvelling at how effective the potions were. Turning around, collecting his hair in one hand and looking over shoulder at his back, he noticed that the scars had lost their aggressive black tone and adopted a greyish hue as he could not sense as much dark magic as he once did.

Seventeen years of being a boy did not help him as he blushed madly when he saw himself, openly admitting that he extremely pretty for his age. Even with his sudden transformation, he simply couldn't think of himself as a girl. Shaking his head in embarrassment, he fastened up his gown.

Just as he turned around and headed back to bed, he froze, rooted to the spot as voice he never hoped in his life to hear again sibilantly whispered with curiosity in his head.

 _I felt that you know._

* * *

A/N: The damaged mind of seventeen year old boy thrust into the emotional body of a ten year old girl. Will Harry be able to cope with his upcoming struggles? Or will the combination of both aspects contribute to his downfall?

As always, criticisms are super welcome! Also, special thanks to Vruon for pointing out a minor error!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 4**

 _Previously that day_

Marlene McKinnon loved her family dearly, down to every last bone in her body. She was the devoted wife to a loving husband and the mother of a beautiful three-month-old baby. She knew that honesty bound a family together so she kept no secrets from her family. Apart from just one.

She was a spy, a weapon in the shadows, a protector of the free world — a vigilante, operating in one of the most secretive cliques in the Wizarding world, the Order of the Phoenix. Founded by Albus Dumbledore in 1960, he had gathered only the people most loyal to him to counter the rising threat of the newly self-proclaimed Dark Lord.

It was a special day today because today was her fourteenth wedding anniversary. She had planned to give her husband, Devin McKinnon, a special treat in the early hours of the crisp morning before she prepared to change for work.

Once breakfast was finished, Marlene leant over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, "If you manage to put little Spencer back to sleep, I've got a surprise waiting for you upstairs," she breathed in his ear as she nipped on his neck playfully.

Devin gave a mischievous grin as the virile man gathered up a gurgling baby and bounced up the stairs, two at a time, to put his son to sleep in a soft and warm cot.

Marlene was already upstairs and waiting as she chuckled with amusement when her husband rushed headlong into their bedroom gasping, only at the last second to assume a dignified walk to their bed, to where she lay clothed in a gossamer see-through gown.

A smirk of anticipation made a way onto his face started talking off his shirt. He shopped short however, as a cold feeling washed over both husband and wife, chilling their very souls as they realized that the wards around their house had fallen. The second feeling of tightness in their chests instilled more terror as they sensed powerful Anti-Apparition wards being erected around the house.

Calming her emotions with the mental art of Occlumency, just as Albus had once taught her on her initiation into the Order to guard the deepest of secrets, she pulled on a yellow coat from the side of her bed and whispered as she turned to her husband, who was frozen stiff.

"Darling, get Spencer and meet me in the second drawing room on the third floor."

"Devin, now," she growled ferociously in a guttural tone that booked no rebuttal as his mouth opened in protest, her Occlumency mask slipping in place as her emotions threatened to spill over.

He nodded with a pale face, exiting the room while wielding his wand in his a trembling hand as he slowly crept and made his way to the nursery room.

She took a deep breath and with clammy hands, pulled out a harmless looking coin she had kept on a necklace around her neck and gently rested it on her palm. She pressed a thin finger against it while muttering a spell under her breath, a unique device that was designed to alert every member of the Order when help was urgently needed.

She flinched as the front door to her house was blasted open, the rasping of distorted voices floating through the wooden floorboards up to her room on the second floor. Summoning her wand from the opposite side of her room silently, she prepared for a fight that had could very well be her last.

" _Facere Invisibilia."_

A quiet disillusion charm made her body shimmer with a soft ripple as she slowly became invisible, blending into the background as even her shadow had disappeared.

She edged out of the room slowly into a corridor, with her back against the wall, thankful that she was in such a big house, which had forced the Death Eaters to split up in search of them.

A male figure adorned with Death Eater regalia thundered up the stairs, as if not a care in the world if anyone had heard him, and made towards her bedroom when he reached the top, completely missing Marlene. She did not move a single muscle when he passed her still and invisible form.

"Come out and play, we know you're here", the intruder almost sang as he bent down to check underneath the bed after looking around the room, letting out a wheezy giggle.

Gripping her wand tightly as her muscles tightened in fear, she quickly jumped into the room with her wand aloft and pointed at his back.

" _Stupefy!"_

The Death Eater fell with a thump to the ground as the his mask slid off his face, exposing the face of Amycus Carrow, a devout follower of the Dark Lord with a hefty bounty on his head.

Casting a disillusionment charm on herself once again, she softly treaded into the room adjacent to her and waited for the next Death Eater to investigate the area to repeat the procedure, with the intention to soften their ranks first before trying to take the rest on.

The last thing she heard before her world faded to black was a whisper that caused every muscle in her body to heighten the instinctive urge to run in the opposite direction as a voice overwhelmed her senses.

"You cannot hide from Lord Voldemort."

* * *

" _Ennervate,"_ Voldemort commanded as life returned to Marlene's unmoving frame.

She jerked up straight in a wild manner, arms thrashing as she regained consciousness. In horror, her eyes widened she spotted the squirming body of her husband and son opposite her, bound tightly with magically conjured ropes. The Death Eaters that had appeared with Voldemort on this raid stood guard outside the house, as he was the only one the room with them.

A handsome young face greeted her as she looked up. Deathly pale skin showed itself as his arms were clasped in front of him. Short, wavy black hair framed his clear eyes and sharp jawline as they blended harmoniously, exuding a sophisticated and charismatic aura. A cultured tone broke the silence as dark eyes stared deep into hers.

"Should your answers please me, I will let all of you live," he spoke softly, eyes glinting with hidden malice as he got straight to the point.

"Who are the other members in the Order of the Phoenix?" he questioned, a mellifluous tone honeying his words.

With an unsurprised look on his face at the silence he received, he knelt down on one knee to stare into the faces of his other two captives.

"The human life is so fragile… one simple spell can end it permanently. Their lives are in your hands, Marlene," he enunciated and reminded as he stroked the face of her son, making her whimper in terror even though she had her Occlumency shields up at full power.

She shivered at the use of her first name so casually.

The stubborn silenced carried on. She knew if she told him anything, the Wizarding world was as good as forfeit. With tears colleting in her eyes, she looked at her husband and child with only the purest of love.

Voldemort seemed to be disgusted with the scene that played out in front of him. He stood back up and readied his wand.

"Very well, it looks like you will need some… incentive."

He lazily pointed his wand in the direction of their progeny, relishing in the looks of increased terror that emitted from the two other faces.

"Last chance Marlene, I can make this easy or I can make it as difficult as you want."

The sound of her husbands screams of muffled confusion as to why she wasn't saying anything stained the air and pierced her heart. She looked away from his pleading gaze and started to weep softly.

"You leave me no choice then."

Turning to the wide eyes of the frightened baby, Voldemort paused as he raised his wand in finality. His eyes glowed as he crooned.

" _Avada Ked-…"_

With a bone chilling scream, he terminated the chant of his cast; the magic within him that craved to be released had retreated backwards as pain wracked his body.

Undulating waves of pain blasted through his head, causing him to shriek loudly as emotions he thought were all but eliminated from the dark rituals he had once performed flooded back to the surface, raw and all consuming.

Gritting his teeth in pain, he fell to his knees as he stared with ever-changing emotions at the petrified face of Marlene.

" _WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WOMAN?"_ he screamed in rage as the pain increased multifold in intensity.

Outside, a cry sounded through the air as the Anti-Apparition ward that encircled the house collapsed into nothingness.

Figures wearing face distorting charms apparated in with harsh cracks in the dark, each one covered in magically resistant dragon hide and wands at the ready. The figures then roared as one, intimidating even the hardiest of Death Eaters, as they charged into the grounds and started firing luminescent spells of crimson red and nitid gold at the patrolling Death Eaters.

The Order of the Phoenix had arrived.

Voldemort barely registered the fight outside as he staggered over to the door in agony. Although the Death Eaters had been trained to cast the foulest of magics, the intricate and unrelenting barrage of spells that came from the Order left them on a hard defensive. A seemingly authoritative figure, emblazoned with a more intricate silvery mask bellowed out above the pandemonium, "RETREAT."

With soft pops, all the Death Eaters ceased fire and hastily activated their portkeys, leaving Voldemort by himself in the house. Stumbling out of the house with wrath in his eyes, he locked eyes with Albus Dumbledore himself before he activated his own portkey, narrowly avoiding a spiralling spell as it propagated and crashed into the wall behind him where he had previously stood.

Albus seemed surprised to see Tom Marvolo Riddle, or the name he calls himself, Lord Voldemort, in pain. Tom was always too careful… too flawless to be hurt. The numerous dark rituals he had partaken in should have eliminated his ability to feel physical pain. Something was up.

"Elphias check the house quickly for survivors," he commanded in a hurried manner to the other members of the Order.

"Alastor, Minerva, check the surroundings for any hidden traps or magical pitfalls. Edgar you-…"

Albus was interrupted as burst of fire beside him announced the presence of Fawkes, his bonded familiar. The majestic phoenix was wreathed in fire and yet was not burning as powerful feathered wings kept him off the ground. He hovered on the spot, flapping its red and resplendent wings powerfully as it gave Albus urgent trills.

Albus turned white and turned to the wizard that was waiting anxiously beside him. "Edgar, I'll leave you in charge here, Fawkes has informed me that the hospital wing in Hogwarts is currently being destroyed by some unknown magic."

Without even waiting for Edgar's response, he grabbed on to Fawkes' tail as they both vanished in a flash of fire.

* * *

 _A few hours later_

Voldemort sat cross-legged in an enclosed room, deep within the magically expanded pits of the Gaunt Manor, which was situated just outside Little Hangleton. Dark and illegal books that twisted and turned in the air surrounded him as they floated lazily around his head, like vultures circling an animal on its deathbed.

Pages lay worn and vandalized with ink as scribbles and perforations had been harshly scratched in from quills. His travels from past decades did him no good, as no knowledge available from his formidable brain nor through ancient and decrepit books were giving him answers to the episode he experienced just now.

Voldemort was not just a one-dimensional personification of evil he had the public believe. He was curious, he was ambitious, and he sought knowledge. He had delved into forbidden magics and rituals that even the most powerful of the world would not dare to explore.

Realising the tome he was currently reading had deviated off topic, he threw it down in a fit of intense anger, pages ruffling and crumpling at it hit the wooden floor with a muffled thud.

 _Something is missing. I just need one more piece of the puzzle to solve this._

With a steady breath, he magically willed the rest of the books to stack themselves neatly on top of a creaky wooden desk, next to a white candle, burning bright as hot melting wax dripped leisurely down its side. That particular candle, which had once illuminated the room, was then snuffed as a cold breeze of magic washed over it.

Voldemort stretched languidly in the darkness before he narrowed his eyes in thought.

 _I was so close to getting the information out of Marlene McKinnon. Her Occlumency shields were almost weakened to the point where nothing was hidden from me._

Tapping his chin slowly, he continued musing.

 _The Order currently thinks I am on the retreat, good. It is strategically beneficial for me to attack other targets now._

He exited the room and made for the dining room in the manor, where he knew a few Death Eaters were currently sojourned at his request. He silently entered the room, nodding with approval as a few talented Death Eaters had sensed his presence immediately and stood up straight. Without pause, he motioned to his two most loyal followers.

"Antonin, Lucius, come with me."

The said elite Death Eaters seemed to glow under the knowledge that they were favourited and quickly followed Voldemort down a dark hallway into another enclosed room, where a detailed map of the Wizarding world was situated in the centre of it. He pointed to certain points in an area on the map with a deft finger.

"We will strike hard and quick this time. The two of you can easily destroy these three muggleborn orphanages in Essex in under an hour."

"Time is of the essence. Go now… and no mistakes," Voldemort ended, warning colouring in his tone, still bitter from the defeat he suffered earlier. Antonin and Lucius nodded nervously with reverence and left the room speedily.

Just as Lucius had closed the door behind him, Voldemort's world exploded in pain. A direct parallel to the assault he previously suffered earlier in the morning.

A small headache formed as he realized that this time, the attack was much more muted. He closed his eyes and ignored the pain as he sat down on a chair and wandered deep into his subconscious, looking for the intrusion. Hours passed as he searched every nook and cranny of his mind.

Just as he was about to abandon his search, he reached into the furthest part of his mind, a part which he didn't even know existed. To his surprise, he discovered a mysterious black door, engraved with a large lightning bolt scratched on its surface as it pulsated with insidious magic. He gritted his teeth with effort as he forced the door to open with his mind and entered through the black and murky fog that greeted him.

With astonishment, he looked around at the mix of magics that inhabited the area and reached out, recognizing some of the magic that was woven into the threads that bound this place together. With a start, he realized that this particular place and the purported attacks in his mindscape were not intentional. With curiosity and excitement at this new and unknown sort of magic, he gathered up his mental power and carried a sardonic message through the open doorway.

 _I felt that you know._

He felt a surge of fear and panic rise up in the murky environment from the other creature before he was rudely expelled from the own recesses of his mind. With a dangerous glint in his eyes, he stroked his chin with his left hand while his brain churned out countless hypotheses and theories. "Interesting... very interesting," he murmured.

* * *

 _1 week later_

Harry drank the final batch of horrid potions before letting out a delighted laugh as he set down the last vial, which to Madam Pomfrey and Professor Slughorn, sounded like an adorable squeal as they both gave hearty chuckles in return, glad to see the child happy and well.

"Thank you so much Professor, all the stories Poppy has told me about your legendary potion making skills is nothing but the truth," Harry breathlessly spoke, eyes shining as lips curved upwards into a full smile as he finally felt all traces of dark magic disappear from his back.

Slughorn blushed under the intense gaze as the enchanting young girl enthusiastically extolled his brewing skills. "Think nothing of it dear girl, and please, call me Horace," he requested, as to which Harry nodded cheerfully.

Harry turned towards the accommodating middle-aged Mediwitch and looked at her through serious and contemplative eyes. All of a sudden, his body acted before his mind could react and he rushed over to give Poppy a tight hug around her midriff. Caught off guard, Poppy flinched. But not for long, as she stroked her fingers through his long black hair and knelt down to give Harry a warm and gentle hug in around his neck.

Albus, with perfect timing as ever, waltzed into the hospital wing with a small key in his hand, looking at the trio bond which each other. He chuckled with endearment as he unconsciously skipped toward them before stopping short as he realized his bizarre actions.

 _Skipping? Dear Merlin, when was the last time I even skipped?_

Shaking his head in bemusement, he cleared his throat loudly to get the attention of the other residents.

"Ariana, as promised, this is the key to your room. It is a very cosy little place which is located just through my office," Albus announced as he pressed a small silver key into the palm of Harry's hand.

Bidding the Matron and the Potion Master farewell, Harry followed Albus as they wound their way through the large castle to his new room. He was wearing a white cotton sundress that Poppy had found lying around and had magically shrunk it to fit him. Thinking back to the days where he wore dress robes for the Yule Ball in his fourth year, he shifted uncomfortably as he realized that this shorter dress was considerably breezier around the knees.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, memories of a story Sirius once told him about the Marauders enchanting a certain suit of armour that jumped out to scare people on the first floor rose to the surface. As they rounded a corner, he was too late to respond as silvery knight jumped out with sinister laughter echoing inside the suit. Instinctively, Harry stepped back with surprise, but the scream he released could not be suppressed.

"Ahh yes, I'd forgotten about the ingenious infusion of spellwork that Mr. Black had once used," as Albus examined the suit of armour closely as it returned back into position, oblivious to Harry's slight distress. "The magic still lingers even after a couple of years… fascinating," he continued in visible admiration.

 _Why…. why can't I control my emotions._ He thought in desperation, blanching as he realized how little control he had over his body.

After calming his heart down and listening to Albus muse, Harry felt his right hand feel a little strangely warm. He looked down and widened his eyes as he found the source of the warmth. In his slight panic, he had instinctively grabbed tightly onto Albus's left hand, as it curled protectively back in response.

Albus leaned back as he finished reviewing Sirius's handwork and quizzically glanced down when he felt a faint tingling in the closed grip of his left hand.

His eyes dilated as an unknown emotion ignited from his hand and spread to the rest of his body like a raging wildfire, causing him to stagger on the spot.

"Ariana?" he gasped weakly, visions of the past clouding his eyes as memories of a similar nature arose unbidden to the forefront of his mind.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry replied, head tilting in confusion he looked into the misty blue eyes of his headmaster.

 _No, this wasn't his sister; this is the girl that Poppy had saved._

"Nothing, let's continue heading to your room – and avoid the trick steps on the grand staircase when I point them out", Albus recovered quickly as he forced a strained smile onto his face.

They had not realized that their hands were still interlocked as they trundled once more through the castle at a slower pace, the odd mood between them quickly dissipating as they blithely talked the whole way until they reached their destination.

When they reached the gargoyle statue that resembled a griffin that guarded the entrance to Albus' office, the quick utterance of "Lemon Drops" from Albus to let them through sent Harry into a fit of giggles as he recalled all the times when Albus would offer him some of his favourite sweets.

The prestigious office of the famous Albus Dumbledore could be described in just one word, mesmerising. A circular silver chandelier with six outward projections that held candles had a full sweeping view of the room. Golden and brown plinths were dotted around the room, each one of them carrying a golden gyroscope on its head, rotating carelessly in complete elegance. A grand wooden desk with intricate markings had a plethora of arcane looking objects situated on its surface, while the walls were coated in time-worn books as black bookshelves gave them a place to call home.

"Your room is through this door here," Albus motioned as he swept his hand to reveal a hidden door on the side of the office, which Harry could of sworn wasn't there the many times he had been here in the past.

Harry suddenly realized what he was still doing and coughed awkwardly as he retracted his hand from Albus's comfortable grip.

He slowly entered a narrow door to reveal a spacious and homely looking room. An empty armoire lay unaccompanied on the left side of the room as a soft and inviting bed lay opposite it. A rectangular window overlooked the glistening black lake in the grounds of Hogwarts, the glass letting in the scintillating rays of the morning sun. Other amenities, such as a personal bathtub, were interspersed around the room in a refined manner.

Completely thrilled and satisfied as he thought back to his room in the Dursleys, he exited the room contentedly as he flashed a full grin to the anxiously waiting man.

"It's perfect Professor, I love it," Harry announced demurely, happiness filling his heart. Albus visibly relaxed and returned the grin.

"I understand you have no personal items on you. I will arrange a trip to Diagon Alley later if that is fine with you. And please, call me Albus when we are alone."

Harry nodded in agreement to both requests but his mind was on something else. He scrunched up his sweet face in unease as he decided it was time that he was ready to tell Albus everything.

"I had promised to tell you everything… Albus," he started slowly, his thoughts translating to his face as it turned deadly serious.

Albus immediately turned grave as he prepared for more details of the young girl's capture and torture, misreading the intention of this talk.

"This will take a while, can we sit please?" Harry requested as he nervously bounced from one foot to the other, still wearing the brown moccasin shoes he had loaned from Professor Slughorn.

As they both sat down on opposite sides of the large desk, he glanced apprehensively at the empty paintings that decorated the walls all around them.

Noticing where Harry's eyes were drawn to in agitation, Albus took out his wand to cast a powerful silencing ward around them. "There, now not even the paintings can hear us," Albus reassured, his voice both tender and patient.

Wrapped by the warmth in a thick blanketed cocoon from Albus' voice, Harry shifted forward in his chair giddily as his bright eyes kindled with the small beginnings of a blossoming fire. A tremulous and courageous voice enveloped the room as emotion caressed every last word.

"Albus, my dear Albus… this is not the first time we have met."

* * *

A/N: Oh boy, things will most certainly pick up after this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 5**

Every colour flashed brighter, every noise echoed louder, and every pulse of Harry's beating heart thrummed in his ears as he readied his thoughts.

 _My name is Harry James Potter._

He chewed as lip nervously as Albus remained composed in silence, raising a puzzled eyebrow at the comfortable familiarity in Harry's last proclamation.

 _My NAME is Harry James Potter._

His mouth distorted in preparation as words thundered through his head, crackling like lightning through every nerve and synapse.

 _MY NAME IS HARRY JAMES POTTER._

Pale lips opened up in anticipation to utter a sentence that would forever change his ill-fated destiny.

"My name is… Ariana James Potter."

His face grew chalky as he realized what he just said, as if an unseen force has shaped and sculptured his sentence.

Albus' brow furrowed as he contemplated the confession, "I am very good friends with the Potters… Charlus and Dorea do not have another child apart from James," he refuted with slight confusion.

Harry shook his head in a negative; his head swinging back and forth wildly as black hair framed his delicate skin like midnight waves on a sandy beach.

"I was born a half-blood on the thirty-first of July, 1980. I have travelled back twenty years from a non-existent future to save the Wizarding world from total annihilation," he continued with unabated energy and bright eyes, the whole speech sounding outwardly farcical.

"I know of everything… the Order of the Phoenix, Tom Marvolo Riddle… also the destruction," Harry looked away as he squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the sides of his chair, "and the death he will bring."

Not letting Albus respond, he relinquished the transient darkness that his eyelids gave him as he opened his eyes to look back up at Albus.

"He is immortal you know."

"Who?" Albus whispered as he felt ice chilling his blood, instinctively knowing who the young girl was alluding to.

"Voldemort."

"How?" he croaked, his brain whipped up in a storm of jumbled thoughts.

"Horcruxes; the last thing you told me before I died was that he had seven of them, but you only told me specifically of six objects before we parted ways."

Albus turned deathly silent as he put his pounding head in his wizened hands.

 _Seven horcruxes, so this is what he meant when he said that he will push the boundaries of magic and push them again._

 _This is impossible, time travel is only limited to hours with a time-turner and is under the strictest watch from the Department of Mysteries._

He raised his head to stare into the turbulent eyes of unspeaking girl in front of him. Reaching out with legilimency, he probed in and around the surface of Harry's mind for the false promise of a sliver of hope that all this was a delusion brought on by the recent injuries.

Finding only the raw truth emanating, he withdrew, deeply ashamed of himself for not trusting the young… or not-so-young girl. Just as he was about to respond he noticed with horror two small words that only now registered.

"Wait… _you died_?"

"Yes, when I was captured, a magical explosion fused with an item that looked like a time-turner had destroyed my body, only to bring me back to this period in time," Harry replied with a shrug of indifference, his mouth refusing to also talk of what happened in the afterlife.

Relentlessly barraging Albus with more bombshells, he continued. "Soon, Voldemort will stop orchestrating small-scale raids and will subsequently move to a fully-fledged war with the Wizarding world in th-…"

"STOP," thundered Albus, eyes widening as he stood up in haste.

Harry looked with only the upmost confusion as he paused to look at Albus in unease at the sudden outburst.

Albus took a shaky breath as he sat back down. "If what you are saying is real, your knowledge then holds considerable power… by telling me about this there is a chance to risk everything into obsoleteness… a single act can change everything the future holds, like a pebble dropped into the middle of a still lake."

A red veil draped itself over Harry's eyes. "That doesn't matter, there is no future – everyone is dead," he half-screamed with a heaving chest, unknown anger deep within him rising as his magic roiled in response.

Both of them stared at each other, simmering green eyes clashing against electrifying blue eyes in a collision that seemed to stretch on forever.

Albus was the first to back down, lowering his eyes and exhaling as he acquiesced in Harry's decision. "The Order, Tom, Horcruxes… how do you know about all of this? What part did you play? Why did I entrust such secretive information with a mere student?" he stressed as he launched a profusion of questions.

"I know all of this because I am a weapon… your weapon," Harry whispered as he turned his head away.

"In four years from now, a prophecy that will change everything will take place at Hogsmeade. As a result, I was both a sword and shield that you had finely tuned against Voldemort during my time at Hogwarts."

"That is what my destiny is," he finished as hot tears spilled from his eyes against his will, remembering how Lily had told him he was supposed to die in his seventh year anyway, the promise of a future, vanishing into nothingness.

The desolation he felt was all consuming. His mind became an icy wasteland; the wind howled in his soul and wrapped icy tentacles around his heart so tightly it almost stopped beating.

The silver band on his wrist grew to a terrifyingly hot degree and the latent signs of magical stress showed up on his face, causing it to take on a sallow complexion.

Albus had dealt with this scenario many times, for the past week and back in his childhood. Memories flooding back to him on how to tackle this gave unique strength to his voice.

"Ariana, listen to my voice… ," he coaxed in a comforting tone as he went around the desk to put his hands on Harry's thin and trembling shoulders as he faced him.

After what seemed like an hour Harry's shuddering stopped as they both calmed down, weary from the mental energy that was spent. Harry gave a watery smile as Albus casted a wandless healing charm on his burn and walked back around the desk to sit on his cushioned chair. A heavy silence hung in the air.

"So… I take it Lily Evans is your mother?" Albus deftly changing the topic, a knowing smile gracing his lips with as a familiar twinkle, one which Harry had not seen in full force since meeting him in the train station, flooded his tired eyes, giving him the image of the carefree man he had once know.

"Yes, the eyes, I know. And that also means I'm actually seventeen, so don't treat me like a kid," Harry replied, finger wagging in mock admonishment as he pouted, the shadow of full grin lying behind his lips, all traces of the previous outburst gone.

Albus clutched his sides and burst out laughing at the childish image. Deciding to humour the lovable girl, he tried to keep a straight face as he nodded with suppressed snickers, "Of course I won't."

"Now, I believe it's time you told me the rest of the information so we can plan and act accordingly." Albus began, glad that emotions were now on a stable level.

The rest of the day faded away as the ever-burning candles in Albus' office illuminated both the serious and pensive faces of the two people that would change and shake the very foundations of the world itself.

* * *

 _Focus Harry, you do this every night. Your life depends on this._

Although the trainings in Occlumency he had once received from Professor Snape in his fifth year were harsh and cruel, the lessons he learned from them were sufficiently brutal enough to give him confidence and skill to plunge himself into his own mind, delving through all manner of memories and echoes of the past. He swam hazily around the nebulous pits of his mindscape until he came across what he was looking for.

 _There, the black gate._

He floated his way through the mist to where an imposing gate made of seemingly out of the blackest of obsidian, looming over him in an ominous fashion with an all too familiar symbol etched on its surface with its door slightly ajar. He closed his eyes in preparation and channelled some of his wild magic that lay dormant within towards the gate, the very same magic that he had accidentally used to expel Voldemort from his own mind the first time.

 _Close yourself… I SAID CLOSE!_

Beats of sweat formed coalesced on his brow as they traced the curve of his florid face and tightly closed eyes, slightly panting from exerting such a strange conduit of magic. After a few seconds of channelling a beam of white magic, the gates tightly clicked together and a giant lock made of pure marble appeared on the handles of the gate, sealing it shut from all attacks from the other side and involuntary attacks from within.

 _Every night the lock gets larger and stronger. It must be from me becoming more familiar with this unusual magic._ He internally mused. Finishing the intended job, he pulled himself out of his mind, gasping with fatigue as he felt his body and mind were still exhausted from the chat he had with Albus earlier.

He flopped back onto his feathery bed in his new room with a tired sigh. The dark, onyx clouds rolled past his open window, letting the refreshing and crisp air fill the room. Moonlight shone soft and silvery from an almost full moon, coiling its brilliant tendrils upon whatever it came across, dipping into the black lake in a radiant and hypnotic glow. Just before Harry dozed off, he felt a peculiar twinge originate from his lower belly, but paid no mind to it as sleep took him over.

The next morning Harry awoke groggily and groaned, only to feel as if his whole body was just trampled on by a herd of rampaging hippogriffs. As he sat up, he noticed that he felt oddly sticky and felt a strange wetness in between his legs, a place on his new body that he vowed to never look at when he was changing or otherwise.

Curiosity burned within him as he lifted up his pale dress, noticing with bemusement that the front was stained in a dark reddish colour, the smell of rusty iron filling the air. As he looked at his undergarments that he had loaned from Poppy, he saw that the reddish hue was actually blood that had soaked and saturated the entirety of his underwear, as if a turbulent sea was thrashing under the shine of a setting red sun.

Panicked, he wracked his brain and recalled what was currently happening from his meagre time he spent in his muggle sexual education classes when he was younger.

 _Is this what girls call a period? Oh no… what do I do, where should I go, how sho-…_

All of a sudden the muscles within the region contracted painfully, cutting off his inner monologue. The pain only increased tenfold as he tried to get off the safe confines of his bed, causing him to scream out loud and contract into a fetal position on the floor, shrieking loudly from the intense pain.

Albus was in his office when he heard the cries of distress emanate from Harry's room. Fearing for the worst, he sprung into the room with his wand in his hand at the ready.

Like a million red flowers blooming, droplets of blood lay scattered across the stone floor in a morbid display around a convulsing figure as it thrashed and flailed. Albus breathed in an out, but no air would enter his lungs. Trapped in a memory of the past, he lay unmoving at the ghoulish sight before him. It took a while for him to recognize his surroundings as he suddenly jerked upright and bounded towards the crying girl.

Quickly gathering up Harry in his arms, he rushed towards the hospital wing, veins and tendons tensed up as old feet pounded hard up steps and elderly legs moving at a speed he would have never thought possible in his old age.

Poppy was sitting at her desk reviewing arbitrary files on chronic illnesses of certain students of Hogwarts in preparation for when they arrived to start school soon. Just as she was settling in with a cup of tea at her side, the hospital wing opened with a loud bang as it did so many times in the recent past. She quickly stood up and pursed her lips. _Really, people nowadays really need to stop doing th-…_

"Good heavens child, back already?" Poppy cried as she spotted the culprit, bustling over to Albus to levitate her whimpering patient onto a clean white bed, still in a fetal position.

She waved a complicated diagnostic over Harry's quivering body, only to gasp out loud in confusion.

"Albus, what is happening? It looks like Ariana is going through her first menstrual cycle, but her magic within seems to be rejecting this process."

Albus looked slightly confused as healing wasn't his strongest department in his eclectic set of skills. Poppy clucked her tongue at the expression Albus' face and elucidated the situation for him.

"Think of receiving cut on your arm, your magic should accelerate your healing rate to heal that right? This is a direct antithesis of what I just described. The menstrual process is a natural part of a young girl's body, but yet it looks like the magic is rejecting it like a foreign parasite… as if not in harmony with the body." Poppy explained as she froze in place, rooted to the spot as her talented mind sped through the thousands of cases studies which she had learnt in the healing academy and profession.

 _How is this even possible? How many cases like this have happened before?_

"We will need to work with her magic while she is unconscious. Albus could you stun her for me please," Poppy all but commanded as she marched over to a silver cabinet to pull out some rugged magically resistant gloves which she slipped on her hands with deftness and precision – a sign of an experienced healer.

Albus' eyes turned dark for a fraction of a second before he unwillingly raised his wand to cast the stunning spell at the trembling and curled up figure.

" _Stupefy."_

The red burst of magic sped out and propelled itself towards the unsuspecting girl, but when it was a mere hairsbreadth away from hitting her, it was redirected and veered off to crash into the wall as a protective bubble of white magic shimmered into existence before fading back to invisibility.

Poppy's eyes widened her eyes comically as she realized how intricate the situation was.

"Albus, her magic is destroying her from the inside… while protecting her from the outside. This is almost unheard of!" she spluttered, as all her training she had received and expertise went out the window with this unique situation.

After running a careful palm over the transparent layer of magic that shielded her patient, she started pacing back and forth in agitation, brain working in overtime.

 _What should I do? Use neutral magic? No, there are two different sets of magic at work here._

 _Force potions down her throat? Not possible if we can't get past that bubble._

 _Maybe we should try to get rid of th-… yes…yes that should work._

"Albus, ready the most powerful stunning spell you know, we need to force our way in through her protective layer of magic," she snapped as she brandished her wand at almost breakneck speed.

"What?" Albus gasped.

"You heard me; it's the only chance we have to save her in one piece."

Still dazed, he realized that once Poppy was the master of this domain and once she had set her mind one things, she would not take no for an answer.

"Albus, now," Poppy growled, wand already at the ready as it pointed towards Harry, "On my count cast with all the strength you have. Ready?"

Albus nodded as he shakily drew his wand out from under his robes.

"3… 2… 1… NOW!" Poppy thundered, her blue eyes aflame with a paroxysm of passion to save someone she had come to grow very fond of.

" _Stupefy!"_

" _Altum Somnum!"_

A potent beam of grey magic that induced deep sleep sped from Albus' powerful wand mixed in with a simple yet strong stunning spell from Poppy.

The beams spiralled in the air, joining one another mid-flight, twisting and turning as the end result was a blend of both magics. The red and grey mixed around into dusty pink as it reached and assaulted the protective cover when it shimmered into existence, taking the attack full on.

The fusion of both spells then spun around and drilled its way slowly through the white magic, emitted sparks as it met with heavy resistance. Just as they were on the verge of breaking through, the white cover then started to push back ever so slowly against the rotary-like movement of the spell.

Recognizing that one more spell would be the end-game in this stalemate, Albus took a deep breath and cast the same spell he had just used.

" _Altum Somnum!"_

The offensive magic buckled under the stress as a third spell joined into the amalgamation, strengthening it beyond belief. With a final ominous shudder, the white magic shattered violently, destroying all the windows in the hospital room once again as it exploded outwards, forcing Albus to nonverbally throw up a shield charm around the trio to avoid the as seen before deadly shards of falling glass fragments.

"We're finally through! Albus go to that bookshelf quickly and bring me a book titled ' _Magical Interactions of the Physical Body',_ and also bring me a magic-resistant face mask," Poppy demanded, seemingly unbothered by the glass that littered the floor as her mind was focused on Harry.

"Seeing how much magic this girl has, I'd best protect my face in case she blows up again," she muttered as her wand waved delicately in the air in an elaborate manner as she begun to untangle the threads of magic that were eating away at Harry's lower body.

She sighed as she looked at Harry's face once more in resignation before starting the process. "How much does this child have to suffer?"

* * *

 _That same morning_

Although it was an early summer morning in the surrounding woodlands, an unnatural frosty chill hung in the air. The dark shadows of the voluminous trees and the surrounding bushes had become the backbone of forest, standing as passive protectors of a peaceful place. The wildlife was bold yet cautious of figuring out their new visitor, daring to get closer to look at the foreign creature disturbing their peace. The drone of insects humming and buzzing filled the air as little frogs croaked while searching for food, hoping to catch an easy snack in the dark and calm lake behind the figure.

Lord Voldemort yawned in impatience as he dispassionately waited for the werewolves to arrive. Something had inexplicably changed within him recently as if an epiphany; the half-breeds that he once spat upon suddenly seemed extremely useful to his cause. He had reached out in the wizarding underworld and contacted a very promising individual that went by the name _Fenrir Greyback_.

Using this sudden change in mind-set to his advantage, he decided that was also the prime time to pool resources as he had already planned to convince the werewolves, vampires, giants, dementors and to a lesser extent, a dragon. To reiterate, Voldemort was an extremely ambitious individual.

All of a sudden, the animals that had been gathered curiously around the almost statue like figure of Voldemort fled as one, the sound of terrified hooves and paws connecting with the clutter on the ground, echoing throughout the silent forest.

They had finally arrived.

The undergrowth gently rustled as around twenty figures slinked out of the shrubbery, mostly adults, dressed in shabby and torn clothes with teeth that bared in a feral manner.

"You would call us out here wizard, knowing that tonight is a full moon? Some of my pack might get a little... peckish," a voice at the back growled as it chuckled menacingly, pushing his way to the front of the throng.

A fearsome looking man approached, exhibiting numerous scars that lined his sharp face as proof that his mettle had been tested in combat. A full and scraggly beard that resembled a chin curtain only gave him a rougher look as his eyes were the thing which stood out the most on his face. Soulless black pits in his eye sockets stared out savagely in what could only be described as a ravenous and all-consuming primal hunger.

A cultivated tone responded, creating a jarring juxtaposition between the two voices.

"Mr. Greyback, I have a proposition for you and your… pack that might be of interest to you" Voldemort asserted confidently, positive that the negotiations would swing in his favour from all the research he had done on this particularly bloodthirsty pack of werewolves.

"I understand you have a numbers problem in your pack, this can be resolved easily. I have many prisoners that you can turn and be forcefully bound to your service" he began.

"You also have troubling moving around in daylight because your faces are well-known among the magical authorities as well as the muggle ones. I have necklaces that I have made myself that turns your face into another for the duration that it stays on you."

"Lastly Mr. Greyback, if you work with me, the chance that you will meet… children will exponentially increase."

The sound of a low rumbling growl filled the air as Fenrir curled his gums to reveal yellow stained teeth, sharped to a deadly point. "You have done your homework wizard; you know me and my pack well. Children are a rare delicacy. You bite them young, take them away and raise them to hate wizards… how can you promise such a thing?"

"I believe you are already acquainted with one Remus Lupin? He is currently attending Hogwarts; a residence which will be the target of many of my ventures that I'm sure will satisfy you."

"Little Remmy has grown up that quickly, eh?" Lips displayed a savage grin as the alpha male thought about the situation carefully.

"You are an interesting wizard and I can smell how much magic you are emitting from here… I accept."

Dark eyes that tinged red burned with a baleful fire as victory coursed through his veins. The first domino in the chain had already fallen, plans coming to fruition as he realized his initial goal had been achieved. He had a sizable amount of Death Eaters, had significant control over the British wizarding high court of law, Wizengamot, with the help of Lucius and other members, had geopolitical and monopolistic control of many areas thanks to his shrewd acumen in the property business, and now, he had acquired the first set of lethal weapons that were the werewolves themselves.

"I will contact you when I have finished preparations," Voldemort assured, with a clear dismissal in his voice as he faced Fenrir. Black eyes stared at him before nodding slowly, giving a blood-curdling howl at his pack as they slipped back into the deep foliage in almost complete silence.

Completely satisfied with the results as Greyback didn't even put up any sort of negotiations, he prepared to Apparate as he dug into his vast pools of magic but stopped short as a peal of thunder sounded in his mind, rocking him back and forth as he realized what had just happened.

The white lock on the black gate he had tried to enter many times had exploded into oblivion.

A grin stretched across his lips in glee as he sat down in the middle of the tranquil forest and immediately dove into his mind. He steadied his breath and swam through multitudinous memories of torture, kidnapping, subterfuge and murder for hours before coming to stop at the familiar black gate. Gathering his willpower he commanded with intensity.

 _OPEN._

The black gate groaned and heaved under the stress of the command as they slowly pried open to reveal the turbid and foggy atmosphere. He floated with trepidation in the air at the entrance, wary if this was a trap that would harm him or lock him in his own mind. Sensing no defence at all, he plunged forcefully into the mist, gasping as he suddenly felt himself in the mind of another being.

Suddenly he felt fear, anger, love, worry and compassion all in one tear through his heart as he stared through the eyes of a young girl. As she stared blankly at someone speaking to her, he recognized the speaker as Poppy Pomfrey, the Mediwitch stationed at Hogwarts.

He felt a perculiar familiarity with the girl but couldn't place a finger on why it was the case. He looked off to the side and noticed a small bundle that contained swirling and moving images, all compacted together in a jumbled mess – her memories. Intrigue still filling him, he was fascinated by the blend of colours as he drifted closer to the iridescent churning ball.

He stretched a long and pale finger towards the globe in a slow manner, fascination etched through his very being as he had never come across this type of magic before. Just as he dipped the tip of his finger in, a torrent of fear resonated through the area, awareness kicking in as the untangled and repaired threads white magic flooded back into region.

Screaming at the sudden burst of bright light, he was forcefully purged from his own mind like once before and he fell hard to the ground with a hard thud. Chuckles burst from his lips in a staggered manner as he picked himself off the ground to stand up straight.

It was raining when he broke out of his mind but he stood completely still in the downpour as plans started to formulate in his head, the darkening sky encasing everything as thunder rolled overhead, spreading out into the darkness as the wind picked up, howling, crying and baying like a wolf into the night.

"Nice to finally meet you… Ariana"

* * *

A/N: Five chapters in almost one week! Phew, my fingers are working overtime.

Also, every scene has a purpose and will blend together soon enough!

As always, criticisms of any kind are super welcome. I read and take to heart all reviews seriously!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 6**

An adolescent girl sat dreamily on her open windowsill completely lost in thought, leaning her head on one slender leg as the other dangled freely out the window, eyes rising lazily towards the heavens in a carefree manner.

An endless canvas of blue and white stretched over her head and blended together gloriously in the warmth of the rising sun. Her heart, caged like a bird in her chest, thrummed with a strange sort of feeling as she saw the clouds vanish into thin wisps and ribbons of golden sunlight spill into every direction. An easy breeze picked up and lifted to her vantage point, caressing her face and softly blowing loose strands of hair.

A sudden knock broke her out of her careless daydreaming as a muffled voice sounded through a wooden door, "Ariana, are you ready to go to Diagon Alley to get your supplies?"

"Almost, I'll be out in two minutes," the said girl replied cheerfully as she lay back comfortably against the window frame, content in basking in the morning sun for just a while longer. She looked down at her small hands in silence, dainty fingers curling around each other distractedly as she turned her thoughts back towards what happened in the last two days.

 _It… it felt like a long overdue wakeup call._

 _Harry James Potter no longer exists in this world anymore, why am I pretending to still be him? What am I achieving by doing this, what do I have to gain? Nothing… I have nothing to gain._

 _Am I male or female… or both? I feel my mind, body and magic screaming at each other in confusion._

 _Regardless of what happens, I am Ariana now… Ariana James Potter._

"Ariana, we're going to be caught up in the morning rush if we dawdle any longer," the same voice called through with exasperation, seemingly aware that the lazy young girl was lounging around in the sunshine.

Ariana rolled her eyes as she stood up, a cream coloured dress rustling softy as she made her way to the door. After turning the handle and opening up the door, she couldn't help but double over in a fit of giggles at the sight that awaited her.

"Albus, what in Merlin's name are you wearing?" she continued laughing as she looked him over from head to toe in amusement.

A man stood in front of her wearing dark purple robes with grey and pink elephants stitched into the fabric in a disorganized manner. A tall black hat with ostrich feathers glued onto its circumference only made things worse as a broad and fat muggle-bought false nose lay on top of his real one, giving a bizarre sight.

"A disguise is very necessary if we are to be undisturbed while shopping. Even though it has been years since I defeated Grindelwald, people still want my autograph wherever I go," Albus groaned as reached up and straightened the absurd hat on his head.

Ariana grew solemn as she realized Albus was right and it was best if no one knew she existed yet, especially Voldemort, before they carried out their carefully laid plans.

Albus seemed to sense her discomfort and reached over to give her a gentle pat on her tense shoulder.

"Now is not the time for brooding Ariana. Now is the time to get whatever you want, my treat!" He added gaily, arms thrown out to the sides in an eccentric manner.

Ariana's eyes widened as she realized for the first time that she had absolutely no money. She did not want to risk complications and exposure if she was caught in Gringotts from all the sophisticated testing they did with magic and blood.

"I'll find a job soon… I promise to pay you back later with interest" she spluttered as she made expressive hand gestures in the air in panic.

Soft laughter issued forth from Albus as he held his arms out in a placating manner, his heart softening as he looked into the wide and imploring green eyes that were full with anxiety.

"Please, do not think about minor issues like this. I am extremely wealthy from the donations that have flooded from all around the world to me after the end of the First Wizarding War. Also, we need to use every asset we have to stymie Tom's rise to power," he ended quietly, looking around carefully to make sure that nearby paintings were in earshot.

A serious face nodded back emphatically in agreement, the lustre of her black hair dancing around as light seemed to bend around her head, creating the ephemeral effect of a halo. A burst of protectiveness shot through Albus' heart as he gave a tender smile, captivated by the sight.

Suddenly, an ancient and cracked clock on the wall broke through the companionable silence as it loudly chimed seven times, signalling that it was seven o'clock.

"Ariana, the morning rush is almost here, to the fireplace quickly!" Albus yelped as he rushed over to the front of his desk, hat still on the verge of slipping off his head as he dug through his drawer until he found a tattered black bag.

"Here, take some Floo powder and go on through to The Leaky Cauldron, I'll be right behind you," he continued as he hastily grabbed a handful of the glittery silver powder and transferred it to Ariana's open and waiting hand.

She received it with polite thanks and strode over to stand in the surprisingly clean and soot-free fireplace as she readied the powder in a throwing motion. Clearly enunciating the words, as she remembered the first time she had landed up in Knockturn Alley from a mispronunciation, she confidently uttered her destination.

"Diagon Alley!"

Green flames enveloped her entire body from the bottom-up as she dematerialized from existence and almost instantaneously came out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, her dress crumpling as she fell to the floor with a squawk in an undignified manner.

"Seriously, I really should have gotten the hang of this by now…" she grumbled with annoyance as she struggled to get up.

A familiar hand was proffered towards her as a warm voice welcomed her from above. Ariana looked up and saw the young face of Tom, the landlord and innkeeper of the Leaky Cauldron who had been nothing short of kind to her in the past.

His face had a rather weather-beaten look as his large nose complemented his curly brown hair that was combed back behind his brow. He wore a black vest on top of a grey shirt that had signs of liquid stains, as well as long and kempt black pants.

Slight concern was pooled within his eyes as he spoke, "Hey there missy, you all right?"

"Yes, thank you. I just won't ever get the hang of the Floo," she huffed as she gracefully accepted the aiding gesture and rose to her feet, smoothening out the crinkles in her dress with her other hand as she moved to the side the hearth.

Rich laughter boomed within his chest as he looked at the pouting girl. "It takes a while to be completely comfortable with the Floo network. Besides, you are still young… soon you'll be whizzing through these things effortlessly," he chuckled, turning around to the almost empty inn to bring more chairs down from the tables in preparation for more customers.

Before Ariana could even think of a response, the fireplace behind her flashed green and a man stepped out, wearing the wackiest outfit she could imagine. Blinking in confusion for a split second, she chuckled with fondness as she realized she had almost forgotten about Albus' less than convincing disguise.

The inn was getting slightly busier as more people started groggily coming in through the entrance, desperate for a cup of morning tea or coffee to wake them from their sleep induced stupor to start their day.

Albus' eyes roved over the inn before spotting Ariana by his side, the elephants on his robes jiggling with the movement.

"Ariana, shall we?" he gestured with a hand towards the back exit.

A buoyant smile made its way onto Ariana's face as she nodded. She followed Albus out of the Leaky Cauldron and waited patiently, tightening a scarf around her neck as Albus tapped the blocks on a brick wall in a certain order to open up the passage to finally step into Diagon Alley. The bricks neatly folded themselves to the side as they took their first steps through.

The cobbled street gently wound across the area like a carelessly discarded belt, grey and cracked with age. On each side the shops and houses were all tightly joined as one continuous row, each one displaying a sight that was even more curious than the last. Although Ariana had been here many times, the initial sight through the bricked wall had always made her feel something special deep down.

The signs of life were starting to take hold as most of the shops were fully open, their gadgets and gizmos were proudly on display for everyone to see, while the rest of the shops that had yet to open sleepily stirred into activity.

The mood of the general atmosphere however, was a totally different story than the cheery albeit drowsy disposition of the inn they had just come out of. Eyes were shifting nervously as shopkeepers and their employees were hastily hanging up signs and laying out their products in both outside and inside their shops. There was a hidden and underlying tension that permeated every soul in Diagon Alley as they carried out their day-to-day affairs.

Ariana squeezed close to Albus' side, tugging on a loose sleeve as she whispered urgently in his ear as he bent down, "Why is everyone behaving like this? Surely Voldemort hasn't attacked Diagon Alley already?"

Albus nodded gravely, "He has targeted a few Muggle-born shops in the past; they were small raids where he had only burnt down the shop, leaving the owners alive… probably to plant the seed of fear before he starts the real war," he murmured back quietly, casting a temporary silencing ward during his speech just to be on the safe side.

Albus adjusted his false nose as he straightened back up and gave a small smile. "Come now; let's be on our way, the crowd seems to be thickening."

Ariana nodded as she absently grasped onto Albus' hand and meandered their way down the road, stopping at various shops along the way, buying all the necessities she needed to survive in this new world.

"Just two more shops, Madam Malkin's for your new clothes and robes for Hogwarts, and Ollivanders for a new wand, which I'm sure you desperately want after a week without using magic at all," Albus stated as he looked at a yellow piece of parchment with a detailed itinerary scratched with ink onto its surface.

"Hogwarts robes?" Ariana responded with a face a slight confusion. A raised eyebrow from Albus jogged her memory.

"Oh yes, I forgot I would be attending Hogwarts," she muttered with a look of resignation on her face.

She had protested initially because she didn't feel comfortable living in a dorm with other prepubescent girls, and her objective was to take down Voldemort anyway, not take classes had had already taken six years ago. After some arguing, she conceded to the fact that it would be easier to interact and be less suspicious with people if she was actually a student and not just a shadowy resident in the castle.

However, the real reason why Ariana had objected to this decision was because she was deathly afraid of her own magic, capable of destroying entire rooms if given the chance. She shuddered with horror as she imagined scenarios where the silver band that limits her magic had slipped off her wrist around a group of innocent school children.

As if he could read her mind, Albus knelt down to put a warm and fatherly hand on her shoulder, "It will never come to that, I promise. Are you still wearing that necklace I gave you?" he gently but firmed questioned.

With a small frown marring her pretty face, she nodded as she loosened her scarf and pulled out a curious necklace made of steel that was shaped like a hollow triangle, but contained a circle within with a line straight down the centre.

 _Short candles burned bright late into the night as a tired yawn signalled the ending of a conversation had been going on for far too long._

" _Before you head off to sleep Ariana, I have something of utmost importance that you should wear at all times in case something ever goes wrong with your magic suppressor." Albus began as he rummaged through the drawers of his desk until he came across a small blue box that was sealed with numerous magical protection spells and wards._

 _After mumbling incoherent counter-spells and performing ward penetrating methods for a minute, the box gave a hiss as it opened up to reveal a polished necklace shining in the candlelight. He firmly grasped and wrenched the necklace out of the box as it fizzled in protest at the action. He turned back to Ariana with a foreboding look, as if this whole thing was a terrible idea to him._

" _I have put a powerful sticking charm on your silver bracelet, but if you somehow ever lose it then just hold onto this necklace and it will take you somewhere where you will be safe. This is an emergency portkey and the activation phrase is 'Life goes forward'," he clarified as Ariana took it out of trembling hands to place it around her neck in a fluid motion._

The symbol of the Deathly Hallows calmed Albus down somewhat and gave a satisfied smile as he stood back up and led Ariana towards Madam Malkin's for her clothes, pushing past the steadily thickening and nosier crowd.

A small bell tinkled softly as they both stepped inside a very quaint and cosy looking shop, dresses and robes surrounding a large mirror as scarves, socks and gloves hung above them, dangling down in a peculiar manner.

"Ahh, my first customers of the day, how many I help you two on this fine morning?" a voice called out as Madam Malkin strode out from the back room, a full woman that filled out the curves of her dress had auburn hair tied into a bun on the top of her head and a bright smile on her face.

Ariana was puzzled that absolutely no one had recognized Albus as she looked up at him; his ridiculous outfit had little chance of fooling anyone. When he looked down at her and winked with eyes that were full of mischief, she realized with a start there were hidden but powerful Notice-Me-Not charms on each of the pink and grey elephants on his robe.

Wondering why the charms had no effect on her, she shook her head and turned to the waiting shopkeeper. "Yes please, I would like several sets of day clothes, night robes, socks, gloves, Hogwarts robes and undergarments," blushing as the last item on the recital still gave her slight discomfort.

"Very well, though here please. This may take a while," Madam Malkin cheerfully responded with a gleam in her eyes, squealing on the interior as she realized she had the chance to play dress-up with this adorable girl.

Twenty minutes later, Ariana emerged, her face flushed and hair sticking up everywhere with disbelief in her eyes as she stomped out of the side room back to a waiting Albus.

"She… she made me wear at least a hundred dresses!" she spluttered when she reached him, hands expressively waving around in the air.

"Yes, but did you get everything you wanted?" Albus queried as he suppressed his chuckles at the childlike sight with mirth, realizing that she was mentally supposed to be seventeen years old but was still acting like a kid.

She huffed sulkily but responded with a nod.

Albus was satisfied and stood went over to the counter to pay for the chosen goods. Madam Malkin looked at the strange man which paid for clothes with a raised eyebrow, as she couldn't seem to discern what his face looked like. With a shrug, she handed him numerous brown bags that were filled with clothes of every nature, which he then magically shrunk and placed in his pocket after he paid for them.

They then exited the shop and stepped out into a Diagon Alley that seemed all too familiar, bustling with life and activity. The crowds that passed her seemed to have a life of its own, vibrant clothes shining in the morning light as people moved like enchanting shoals of fish. The chatter between sellers and buyers, old friends catching up, and new friends being made, gave off a vibe of safety and comfort as she held on to Albus' hand once more, heading towards Ollivanders to buy a wand.

They entered a black shop with large golden letters above the doorway spelling out the shop's name in a tidy manner. There was no bell to herald their entrance into a room where dusty boxes had lined the shelves of the seemingly derelict shop, their dull and mattered colours lost below the grey-white layer. The dust was so thick in certain places that it built a layer over them that was more like fur, or else fragments of the old cobwebs that hung from the rafters above.

"Welcome Albus Dumbledore, it has been a while since we have last met," the owner greeted in a odd voice behind them, completely seeing through the charms and making Ariana almost jump out of her skin, "And who is your interesting young companion you have with you today?"

Albus dipped his head slightly in a cordial greeting, "Hello again Ollivander, this is young Ariana, a student soon destined for Hogwarts and is in need of one of your finest wands," he revealed as he gently ushered the said girl towards the counter.

The figure stepped out of the darkened corner, bushy white hair tousled in every direction as an old wizened face scrutinized his customer with grey eyes. A measuring tape flew across the room into his outstretched arm as he began to work.

"Now then child, which hand do you write with?"

"Umm… I'm right-handed," Ariana replied nervously as she felt his eyes seemingly pierce into her very soul.

After numerous measurements taken by the floating tape, he nodded to himself and scurried back into a narrow passageway to pull out a dusty red box. He brought it back to the counter and opened it gently, offering the wand to the waiting girl.

"This wand is made from spruce, ten inches, with a core of a unicorn tail hair. Go on, give it a try"

Ariana grasped the wand gingerly, only for it to cause every window in the room to explode with a sudden burst of power. "What is it with this girl and windows," she heard Albus quietly mutter behind her.

"No, this will not do," Ollivander said in a high pitched voice as he snatched the offending wand from her hand. Turning around, he grabbed another box and repeated the same process many times, each wand doing more damage from the last.

Ariana patiently experimented with one wand after another as she knew it was very likely that she would be reunited with her phoenix wand once again. Carelessly she grabbed a random wand from the counter which Ollivander had spread out on the counter and realized how very wrong she was.

All of a sudden she felt the magic within her rejoicing and vibrating in harmony as the area around her lit up with a strange glow, wind whipping her hair around her as burst of emotion rushed through her.

"I see you have finally found a wand that suits you. This particular wand is made out of Yew, eleven inches, with the core of the tail of a Thestral. Yew symbolizes power over life and death while the tail of a Thestral symbolizes only death," Ollivander breathed softly as he turned grave. "You hold in your hands a heavy burden my child; I can only hope that it does not destroy you first."

"Ollivander," Albus interjected, slight anger lining in his voice.

Ollivander had the decency to look abashed as he apologized for his insensitive comment. "Seven Galleons for the wand please," he wheezed as he cleared up the remaining wands on his worktop.

After paying the said amount, Ariana exited the shop feeling strangely slightly happier as Albus shrunk everything, even her wand, to place in the large folds of his robes. They made for one more stop before planning to head over to a restaurant since it was almost noon and was close to lunchtime.

"Ariana, it's best if you waited for me outside Gringotts while I withdraw some items. I know for a fact that the goblins have a very advanced method of determining who a person is when they walk through the front doors. It would be disastrous if other parties were to know about you," Albus whispered hurriedly as he bit his lip in concern about leaving her alone for a few minutes.

"I'll be fine by myself Albus, I'm seventeen remember?" Ariana whispered back, noticing that Albus was taking no chances and had erected a silencing ward around them every time they spoke about anything related to their plans.

Sky blue eyes appraised her and nodded, but not before giving a small gentle pat on her head before turning around and marching through the stone entrance of the Wizarding bank.

Tilting her head in bemusement, Ariana rubbed her head quizzically and wondered what on earth had possessed Albus to do that. Shrugging, she leaned back against the cool white stone of the bank and closed her eyes, listening to the footsteps of people thunder past her.

All of a sudden she felt a strange sensation pass through her, her fingers and toes tingling as she snapped her eyes open at the eerie feeling. She glanced around and saw out of the corner of her eyes, a hooded man dressed in all black holding a brown package under his arm, glancing around suspiciously before turning off into a side alley with his cloak billowing behind him.

Childlike curiosity filled her and without her even mind registering what was happening, her body had bounded across the pavement and into the dark alley of which the man had vanished in to. As she wandered down the path, the shops on the sides of the alley grew darker and morbid as the sky seemed to shroud with mist above her. After a few seconds her brain finally caught up to what her body had done.

With a gasp she recognized this place to be one of the more dangerous parts of Knockturn Alley. With a trembling body, she also realized that she didn't have a wand on her. Fear clouded her senses as she whirled around on the spot and started walk back the way she came. Luck was not on her side as three burly men stepped out of a random shop and into the deserted, dark and damp alleyway and spotted her shaking figure instantly. Three heads surreptitious scanned the area before pulling out their wands and advancing on her with menacing and gleeful grins on their grotesque faces.

"Lookie ere' folks, we got ourselves a nice catch. A lil' bird all by herself. With a face like that, I reckon she'll be worth at least a thousand Galleons… waddya think lads?" the leader of the gang leered as they approached her.

The metal band on her wrist grew to a terrifyingly hot degree and started searing her skin as her turbulent magic swirled deep within her and stormed towards the surface in a chaotic manner, crying for release.

Her vision swirled before her eyes, magic coating her eye sockets causing her to see a whole new spectrum of colours, every fibre of her being screaming at her to wrench the silver band off her wrist where the skin was starting to blister.

 _Albus… HELP… anyone please… I don't want to take my band off… I don't want to hurt anyone…_

She sobbed in pain as the thugs raised their wands in a perverse delight at her palpable fear, unaware that it was not a fear of them, but rather of herself.

" _Stupefy!"_

A crimson beam of magic sped out and propagated towards her face as time seemed to slow down, her wide eyes staring at a red mass which only got bigger and bigger.

" _Protego!"_

A voice cried out in anger as the shielding charm deflected the stunning spell at the last second and sent it upwards towards the sky, where it soon fizzed out of sight. The new figure seemed to be shaking with rage as it advanced on the three surprised would-be-abductors; wand glowing as it rapidly cast two more spells in rapid succession.

" _Lumos Maxima!"_

" _Bombarda!"_

A dazzling burst of white light stunned and blinded the criminals for a split second before they were soon blasted off their feet into unconsciousness. A coarse and warm hand grabbed Ariana's hand and started sprinting out through the alleyway and out of the mist into daylight, dragging her unceremoniously the whole way.

Eyes deep with concern and panic asked her questions rapidly, which only faintly got through to her amidst her flurry of emotions.

"Are you hurt? Did they… do anything to you?" the hazy figure asked as it gulped loudly.

With tears still leaking she stood unmoving as she blankly looked at the figure and raised her left wrist towards it as if waiting for something.

Her saviour looked confused for a second but then gently took her wrist, tightening the grip slightly in anger as it noticed the burn. A muttered healing spell brought her sweet coolness and pain-free relief. As Ariana rubbed her watery eyes, see got a first look at the person that had heroically rescued her.

There was a brief moment where her face washed blank with confusion, like her brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information from her wide eyes. Every muscle of her body just froze before new emotions flooded her; however, it was this time joy and wonder.

Stood in front of her was a person she had already considered a hero long time ago. With the same hazel eyes, same rounded glasses, and same tousled and black hair, in front of her stood a courageous man beyond measure, her beloved father, James Potter.

* * *

A/N: Why is Harry a girl? Will he accept his newly forced role? What is this so called plan? Why has Voldemort's mind-set changed? What are his plans for Harry? Is Voldemort the only enemy? Where does this mysterious necklace lead to?

So many more questions lie unanswered.

And so many questions will most definitely be answered in the coming future! :D


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 7**

Everything in life is transitory. The defining factor is just that some things last longer than others. Every emotion is fleeting, every thought gives way to a new one, and every action fades away in memory. It isn't a reason to despair, but one to rejoice. Moments come and go like the rise and fall of the tide, some of them so happy that they come together to form something so wonderful and unique that it makes life simply worth living.

This was one of those moments for Ariana.

Wide green eyes seemed to swallow the image in front of her as the warm rays from the sun kissed her pale skin lightly, warming her from the inside out. The small kindling of a nascent fire flickered to life within her as a gentle breeze of air that was both light and fresh brushed past her, making her shudder as their cool tendrils danced upon her sensitive skin.

 _Dad… Dad, it's me._

 _I'm your son… daughter? That doesn't matter. I want you to tell me everything, I want you to talk about Mom, I want to hear all your stories with Sirius and Remus, I want to-…_

Her heart started to beat faster and faster as her brain churned out thoughts and desires at a breakneck speed. She opened her mouth to say something… anything, pale and trembling lips parting ever so slightly as she looked deep into hazel eyes that seemed to look into her very soul.

 _I want to jump on you and never let go. You've already left me four times. One time when I was young, once when I saw you in the Mirror of Erised, once during my battle with Voldemort, and once more in the afterlife._

 _I will NOT lose you this time… I will not…_

Tears of joy started prickling her eyes as she burst into a full smile, full of protectiveness, even though she was the progeny of this young man in front of her. Everything seemed so perfect.

Then the whole world crashed upon her young shoulders.

All of a sudden, her lungs stopped working mid-thought as her mind caught up to the reality of the scenario.

 _The plan… the plan will be ruined. I can't risk changing the future. Everything hinges on the fact that events will stay the same. My parents played a crucial role in the war against Voldemort and had fought him three times before their death._

 _For the sake of the world… I can't talk to my own father._

Her breath hitched as she realized the situation, clamping her open mouth shut with ferocity and looking away as sorrowful tears filled her eyes.

However, Ariana did not account for the growing fire that been lit in the brazier of her heart, memories of her parents in the train station flooding back and diluting every corner of her mind, making her remember all the laughter and joy she managed she experience in the short time she had met them.

The unquenchable fire which she had experienced only once before was now crackling, flaring and roaring all as one. Defiance thundered through her body, running through her veins and coating her insides as her emotions swirled within her.

 _No… fate does not control me.  
_

She shivered in fear as her lungs suddenly felt wooden, each breath of air needing effort as if breathing in mud. Her back suddenly arched straight up and she screamed in her mind, ignoring the suffocating and insidious feeling.

 _MY FATHER BELONGS TO ME… NO ONE ELSE._

 _HEAR THAT FATE, YOU BITCH?  
_

* * *

Little did James know, a meter away from him raged a battle between man and god that had already started to sculpture and mould the very nature of existence itself.

The silence that carried on unnerved him greatly; the young short girl stood rooted the spot, displaying various emotions and was looking at him with wide and familiar green eyes that tugged greatly on his heartstrings. She was almost half his height and guessed that she was around eight or nine years old.

"Kid, you okay?" James questioned again anxiously, feet shuffling as he waited for a response.

The child was clenching and unclenching her hands, grinding her teeth, and stamping her feet as her eyes glowed visibly with strife, shining even though the light of the morning sun. All of a sudden, she went limp where she stood, like a puppet whose invisible strings had just been cut by its master.

Without warning, the strange girl then leapt forward and engulfed him in a tight embrace around his midriff, causing him to grunt with surprise at the action, the breath almost leaving his body from the pressure her arms exerted.

"Okay, okay… enough," James half wheezed and half chuckled, trying to suck in air as he gently and unconsciously put his hand on her head, running his fingers through her long and soft black hair.

James was an only child and had never properly interacted with anything of a sibling nature, but something familiar and fierce descended upon him as he knelt down to give her a proper hug her this time, her head lying snug in nook of his shoulder, wondering what could it be about this girl that could elicit such a reaction from him.

As if struck by a stinging hex, the girl suddenly wrenched herself from his arms and jumped back from him, hugging herself with pale arms and bearing eyes that were full of guilt and terror. To James' bemusement, a small sliver of triumph also resided in them as well.

Not knowing what caused her to act like that, and slightly hurt from the gesture, James held up his arms in a placating manner, "I will not hurt you. I saved you from those bad men, remember?" he coaxed, the girl inching closer back to him at the sound of his voice, one small step at a time.

"Now, where are your parents? We'll go straight to them okay?" he continued, but the girl seemed to be ignoring him as her eyes were slightly unfocused, as if in a trance. When she reached him for the second time, her hands snaked out and latched onto his right forearm with both hands in a firm grip.

The girl continued to say nothing as she looked at the floor and persistently clung onto his arm ever so tightly, pressing into his side as if her life depended on it.

"Uhhh… kid, you sure you're okay?" James cautiously repeated, eyes scanning the surroundings for whatever was still frightening her, noticing with thankful relief that they were just a few meters away from the main road in Diagon Alley.

Reluctant to ask insensitive questions as to whether she was a mute or just terrifed beyond measure, he decided not to as he tried thinking of other solutions.

"She's not saying anything. What should I do… actually, it's most likely Mom and Dad will know what," he muttered under breath, subconsciously tousling his untameable hair and readjusting the pair of round glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose with his free hand as he decided on the course of action.

"Come along now, you'll be back your parents soon enough, my Mom and Dad know many people in this area, finding them won't be a problem," James gently encouraged as he started walking in the opposite way from where they had just come from, taking careful and controlled steps for the seemingly terrified girl that clung to him.

Little legs quickened their pace to match James' long strides as they burst out of a side alley into the main road of Diagon alley, back into a river of people that chattered, bartered and conversed in all sorts of manner and languages.

James knew his parents were still at the eatery down the road and were most likely waiting for him in extreme annoyance, as he had promised to meet them twenty minutes ago. Out of the corner of his eye, just before they were about to start walking again, he noticed that the young girl was wincing with every movement he made.

Without her consent, he suddenly and firmly grasped her left wrist and brought it closer to him, the action causing her to scrunch up her face in pain. James noticed a ring shaped burn, similar to the one he had just healed, appear again under a silver band, the skin inflamed and raw. He quickly muttered a powerful healing spell under his breath to dispel the pain and swelling. His vision clouded with intense rage as he turned to the wide eyed girl.

"Who… who put this band on you?" James growled, the thought of a contraption that seemingly was constantly burning this young girl sent waves of unbridled fury through him, "And why can't I get it off?" he snarled as his physical attempts to overpower the sticking charm cast by Albus failed miserably.

An angelic face gave a soft smile before tip-toeing to place a delicate hand on the side of his flushed face. His anger started to drain away as he looked into familiar green eyes that were full of trust and… love?

The girl then shook her head, nonverbally shaking off the question as black strands of hair cascaded around her face like molten onyx, feathered to accentuate her delicate features.

James gave a large sigh and grinned slightly at the adorable girl, restraining the very strange urge to pinch her cheeks. "Very well, I will stop asking questions for now. Let us meet my parents quickly," he acquiesced, responding to the silently spoken plea as she lowered her hand from his face and squeezed against him once more.

* * *

Ariana grinned as she secretly stole glances at the face of her father every now and then while they walked hastily to their destination.

 _I won't talk to you but I'm not letting you go so easily._

She bounced along happily, all thoughts and traces from the close shave of the abduction that almost took place vanishing from her mind. It was now just a son… daughter and her father strolling through Diagon Alley.

A small part of her subconscious in the dark recesses of her mind suddenly whispered to her, rasping and grating as it pervaded her senses.

 _You're dangerous Ariana… you'll always be dangerous. You really think you can rely on that silver band forever? Your father will die because of you… everyone will di-…_

Trembling, she unconsciously used Occlumency in a desperate move to block out the voices in her head as she tightened her grip on James's arm. The voices disappeared into a sweet nothingness, but the seed of fear had already been planted in her.

James misunderstood the increase of pressure and looked down at the small girl, "Don't worry now, you'll be back to your family soon," he soothed, becoming slightly bewildered by the barely concealed amusement in her eyes that glinted into existence at his last statement.

As they rounded the bend on the end of the street, they turned their sights to a café that lay ahead, its royal blue paint glistening in the golden rays of the day. Square tables, glass tops, waiters smartly dressed in black and white and small vases of yellow carnation flowers on each table gave a regal and quaint image, almost a microcosm of Diagon Alley.

As they entered the café, two heads immediately turned towards his direction, both pairs of eyes expressing disapproval and annoyance. James gave a sheepish grin, his free hand ruffling the hair on the back of his head as they meandered past diners that were eating food at a leisurely pace. James' parents sat in a quiet corner of the shop where the sound of the tinkling of glasses and the murmur of the voices was almost absent.

"Young man, we have waiting for almost twenty minutes and we are starv-… oh?"

Charlus Potter, head of the dignified Potter family, sat straight up in his seat. A middle-aged face that was framed by light brown hair and sharp cheekbones that definitely resembled James had one eyebrow arched in curiosity at the young girl that was attached to James as they approached.

"Well James, do explain," a beautiful woman chimed in, lustrous and wavy black hair cascaded down her shoulders, a soft round face and small nose. Dorea Potter, matriarch of the Potter family, had always prided in her eyes, saturated with blackness that resembled a midnight starlit sky, the type of darkness that wasn't dark, but only twinkled with patience and hidden strength.

The usual mischievous smirk James always wore was now absent as he struggled to describe the situation in a way without upsetting his parents.

"Well, I split ways with Sirius a while back, but just as I was about head over to you guys… I saw someone who looked like an illegal trader from the Serpents," he slowly began, trying to quell the imminent anger even before it began.

Dorea had a horrified look on her face as Charlus gave an exasperated sigh and started to open his mouth to chastise his son.

"Let me finish please," James pleaded as he continued speaking, "I was curious and followed him for a while, but just as I was about to turn back, three Serpents came out of their lair and would of kidnapped this young girl if I wasn't there to stop it," he ended quietly, eyes aglow while he recounted his tale, as if daring his parents to refute.

Charlus and Dorea both looked at each other with an unidentifiable emotion and turned back to the standing pair. Charlus then stood up and looked carefully at the wide eyes of both his son and the girl he had rescued.

"The Spiny Serpent in Knockturn Alley specializes in abducting and selling magical children across countries even though the Ministry cannot prove actually it. I would normally get furious at you for the dangerous and foolish stunt you just pulled… but I'm proud of what you did today," he ended, a heart-warming smile lighting up his face as he put one hand on James' shoulder, causing him to grin madly in return.

Generation after generation of Potters have always had a fiery hero complex ingrained deep within them whether they liked it or not.

Ariana on the other hand, was having the time of her life and was actively ignoring all the conversation that was happening between James and his parents. She huddled closer to James and committed the two new faces to her memory, intricately carving them into her mind so that she would never forget the faces of her family.

 _Grandmother's face looks like a much prettier Narcissa Malfoy... and my grandfather looks exactly like old me and Dad… well apart from his bushy moustache._

Ariana was broken out of her thoughts as the Dorea knelt down in front of her on both knees so that their eyes were level, speaking with a tender tone that coated her words that only a mother could produce.

"Hello there dear, what is your name? You also don't have to hold on to James now, you're safe here," Dorea coaxed softy, black eyes staring straight into Ariana's, making her heart jump slightly from the love she was shown.

Ariana grinned madly on the inside as she kept a blank and slightly frightened countenance on the exterior.

 _Not a chance grandmother! I doubt I'll be seeing my father anytime soon so he's mine until we reach Albus._

 _Besides, I won't change the future if I don't say anything to him… right?_

Confident that she wouldn't be altering anything, she did the opposite of what Dorea wanted and only squeezed tighter on James' arm. She then looked up at him with eyes that were full of hidden mischief, making him groan with mock annoyance as he recognized the tell-tale glint in her eyes, one which he had seen many times in his escapades with the Marauders.

James then noticed that his mother was still waiting for a reply of some sorts. "Mum, she hasn't said anything. I think she might umm… not be capable of speech," James nervously pointed out as he tugged at his colour in slight discomfort.

Dorea's eyes widened for a brief moment in disbelief as the young girl nodded slightly in agreement, the peculiar shine in her eyes still present. She decided to approach the girl from a different angle.

"Dear, where are your parents at the moment?" she softly continued only to look back at her husband, "Charlus, you always pride yourself on being useful don't you? Well a quill and some parchment might come in handy now," Dorea quipped, eyes alight with amusement as Charlus started digging deep into his magically expanded pockets.

Ariana simply shook her head at their frantic gestures and let go of James, gathering their attention and causing Charlus to stop patting down his robes. She walked over to their table and placed a serviette in front of her with her left hand, the silver bracelet glittering in the light.

Without the use of a wand or otherwise, and to the complete astonishment of her family, she raised her hand and traced the out the name of the Wizarding bank, letting out a sliver of wild magic seep out of her index finger, scorching the linen as it etched and smouldered with seemingly white magic.

 _In a weird way, I have to thank Voldemort for this. Without the link between us I would have never gotten the chance to use my new magic. Although I can only use it on a small scale, it's a small step forward nonetheless._

Satisfied that the message was unambiguous, she bounced back and grabbed unyieldingly onto James once again, not aware that the use of wandless and controlled magic had sent the Potter family into a stupor.

Charlus was the first one to recover after a few seconds as he cleared his throat dazedly, "Well, she certainly is a powerful young witch that's for sure. Let's go to Gringotts immediately, her parents must be worried sick."

Two other heads nodded in dumbfound unison as they gathered their belongings and exited the café, unbeknownst to them that three generations of Potters walked side by side in complete amiability.

* * *

 _She's seventeen… there's no way she would have wandered off._

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye, his mouth forming a rigid grimace. With arms folded tightly across his dark purple robes he tapped his foot furiously all the while scanning the throng of people passing by.

 _She most likely went to the loo. Yeah… that's right… I'll just wait a few more minutes._

Wrinkled hands clasped tightly in front of his stomach, constantly fiddling with his knuckles as his fingers weaved in and out of each other. Cold sweat glistened on his furrowed brow as the minutes went slowly by, his heart pounding against his ribcage so hard that he almost felt his whole body deform with each palpitation.

Just as he was about to lose the will to stand by the entrance of Gringotts any longer, he spied the Potter family approaching with some haste towards him. In the brief bemusement, he failed to see a small figure detach itself from one of them and sprint towards him, almost knocking him over as it hurtled into him at breakneck speed. Glancing down, his heart somersaulted at the sight that awaited him.

A deep curve on a young girl's lips showed a heartfelt apology and warmth, making the world stop around him for a split second as he felt her gentle hug. A million memoires rushed through his head, creating a train of the past that thundered through his mind.

"Ariana, you're safe," Albus breathed noisily, shoulders that were once tense now slumped down in relief.

He looked slowly up at the Potter family as they silently watched reunion and down back to her. Ariana's eyes pleaded with an unknown emotion as she stared straight at Albus, unconsciously using legilimency as she spoke in Albus' head.

 _I did not say a single word to them, they think I'm mute. Nothing has changed, nothing WILL change._

Green eyes implored with the silent question as he stared into them. With a tired sigh, he twisted his fingers in a pinching movement, altering the Notice-Me-Not charms on the robes to negate the effect it had on the Potters.

As if a vat of cold water had been doused on their heads, the cries of 'Albus' and 'Professor' mixed in the air as Albus winced and brought up one hand in a shushing motion.

"Great Merlin, what on earth are you wearing Albus?" Charlus chuckled, always the one to recover first in any given situation.

With Ariana now accounted for, Albus beamed, the twinkle in his sky blue eyes returning with full force, "I'm an escort for this young lady today," he responded, putting a hand around Ariana's shoulders as he faced the Potter family, "I figured it would work best if I wore a disguise."

"Speaking of this young lady, where did she wander off to? I hope it wasn't to-…"

Albus was interrupted by the small and seemingly urgent tugging of his robes on his right side, fabric going taut with each pull. He looked down into the wide and seemingly panicked gaze of Ariana.

"Yes, my dear?"

Turning to eyes that seemed to beckon him to use legilimency, he lightly skimmed the surface of her mind.

 _Later, I'll tell you everything I promise._

"Albus we were just about to have some lunch, would the both of you care to join us?" Dorea interjected swiftly, noticing that this was the neither place nor time to discuss the situation. A nod from Ariana was all Albus needed as he agreed to join them as they had still much of the day left to spare.

Lunch was an animated affair as Albus was on extremely good terms with the House of Potter, as well as the fact that he had spent countless detentions with their ever dynamic and mischievous son. Ariana sat through the entire thing in absolute silence, every now and then looking up and glowing radiantly at whoever was talking.

With a satisfied pat on his stomach after the meal had ended, James turned to his parents, "Mind if I pop down to Quality Quidditch Supplies for a couple of minutes? I heard they've got a new broom out on display," he excitedly babbled, mind filled with nothing but the thought of soaring in the air.

A nod from his parents made him give out a whoop of delight, much to the embarrassment of his parents and soft chuckles from Albus as other eaters looked on with annoyance. Just as he was about to leave, a small hand tugged on the hem of his robes making him look down in slight confusion.

Glittering green eyes with an excited shine looked up at him as he saw the hidden question that lay in them. Looking at his Headmaster for permission, all he needed was a gentle nod, which made him usher Ariana, a name which he had just learned from Albus, out the door in childlike enthusiasm.

"C'mon kiddo, let's go… It might still be empty since it's still lunchtime," James declared as he led her down the winding street, slightly amused at the way Ariana had grabbed his hand and refused to let go.

As they reached the destined shop, there was virtually no one outside of it even though a brown, waxed, glossy and powerful broom lay on its side, its specifications scratched with ink onto yellowing parchment beside it for the entire world to see.

"The Comet Two Sixty... top speed of ninety miles per hour, the best broom in the market with the quickest turn rate... and it even has self-cleaning bristles," James lovingly murmured as he and Ariana pressed their faces against the glass in adoration.

James inquisitively glanced to his side and noticed Ariana's flushed face, her face so close to the window that her breath had caused the glass to mist up, "You love flying…don't you?"

Her head whipped towards him as long black hair caught in her mouth at the action. She nodded happily as her mouth and even her eyes curved into a beatific smile. Eyes the colour of deep forest pools, the colour of springtime ferns, and the colour of freshly cut grass burned into his own, seemingly stealing away at his soul with the intensity of the gaze.

A thunderbolt struck him as he gasped in recognition, leaning over with his hands on his knees and out of breath as the familiar feeling he had always felt in her presence suddenly made a modicum of sense.

 _Lily's eyes!... But that's not everything, why does she look so familiar?_

As he internally mused, a soft and delicate hand found its way onto his shoulder. When he looked up, all he saw the raw and concerned face of Ariana at his sudden semi-collapse. Without thinking and before he could stop himself, he reached out with both hands to pinch her pale cheeks, waving them up and down while his uncontained laughter filled the air at her cute expressions.

With a jolt, he realized what he was doing after a few seconds and let go immediately, slightly cowering, waiting for a look of anger or disapproval as he looked down guiltily. When he dared to peak up, his eyes alighted once more with mischief as he saw only the blissful face of a sweet young girl, with not a hint of offense or irritation in them. With a stifled chuckle, he leaned over to her.

"You are certainly a weird one, but guess what," James whispered, looking around in the pretence of hiding a secret, "That makes two of us," he revealed, sending Ariana into a fit of silent giggles as she tried her hardest not to emit the slightest any sort of sound in her extreme joy at the weirdly intimate interaction.

They both straightened and Ariana rested her head against the cool glass and she turned her head to look once more at her father. He was once more lost in his own world and was animatedly talking about the new broomstick. Ariana was content with just listening to the sound of his voice, the gentle lull making her relax every strained muscle in her burdened body.

 _Dad… with every fibre of my being, even though you will never know who I really am…_

Ariana looked into his hazel eyes with a tender smile gracing her lips, heart full of overwhelming love.

… _I love you._

There was a deep rooted part of Ariana's soul that understood the connection between self-sacrifice and love. By giving herself so freely, more than anyone could ever ask, she spoke the true language of love, for love is a language best spoken without words.

* * *

A/N: If you're reading this, I hope you have a enjoy the rest of your day/night!

As always, criticisms for anything (even the tiniest of details) are always appreciated!

Special thanks to **StarwardAscent** for his great criticism on my writing style and **aalens** for giving me extra motivation to write more :)


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 8**

 _Sometime later_

An old and decaying wooden box exploded violently into a million miniscule pieces, its fragments scattering across the large and cluttered room in an angry fashion. A young girl winced from the shower of airborne splinters as they pummelled and gnawed with ferocity at her face, leaving angry red marks that sullied her once perfect and pale skin.

Her opponent was near; she could almost sense it. Crouching behind an upturned wooden table on a cold stone floor, she steadied her breath and readied an ebon-hued wand in her right hand in preparation as she tightened her grip almost to the point where the wood groaned in protest.

 _That last attack was slightly sloppy… I just need to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike._

Her adversary was still on the prowl for her, coming out into the presence of dim light to form a blurry silhouette every now and then to blow up objects to systematically clear out the room of places to hide, patiently watching and waiting for its target before fading back into the shadows like a vampire.

The room was deathly silent as she padded soundlessly, still crouched, sideways from the tiled table to nestle herself behind an empty greying bookshelf, cobwebs and dust lining every nook and cranny of its disused body. Thanking Merlin for her previous decision to cast a silencing charm on her feet, she readied a spell on her taut lips, blood pounding in her head while feet tensed up in anticipation.

 _This level of magic is too strong for me to fight against head on. I need to create a distraction and then follow up with something powerful._

She then heard the figure once again shuffle out, but this time, the sound was heard only a few feet on the opposite side of the bookshelf, of where she was staying absolutely still. Not even daring to breathe, she remained on her hands and knees on the chilly grey floor as her mind whirled through possible routes of attack she could pursue now to save herself.

She didn't even flinch when a white armoire, or it could have been any colour as the pigment had faded over the inevitable course of time, was obliterated into oblivion beside her when a red spell slammed into it with a rich earthen crunch, rocking every other object in the room into resonance as the almost visible shockwave propagated outward.

Her bracelet started to heat up and she knew it was only a matter of time before the sizzling of skin or her stifled cries of pain would alert her pursuer to her location. Thankfully, she heard the shuffling of feet grow slightly fainter, as if it was walking away.

 _Now._

A sudden burst of adrenaline gave her the ability to ignore the pains and aches she was currently carrying as she silently sprung out behind her protective cover, a glowing black wand primed and ready for action. The dim light was flickering, casting a crepuscular glow within in the room.

With strained and narrow eyes, she saw the back of a figure and the billow of dark robes retreat in her line of sight as it made a beeline for the far corner of the room, to where sofas lay destroyed and abused by powerful magic.

She then whispered a simple yet effective charm she had learned in her second year at Hogwarts, the power of knowledge once more giving her strength.

" _Avifors."_

The aquamarine spell flew silently and diagonally across the room behind the figures back, hitting an opaque glass orb atop a reddish sofa caked in dust, morphing its yellowy exterior into the shape of a similarly hued canary. A mental command from its petite master gave the newly created avian construct purpose, and after chirping loudly, the bird spread its tiny wings and flapped with vigour into the direction of the retreating figure.

Her eyes widened as the bird passed harmlessly through the body as it were made of smoke and plummeted out of the air into the ground, creating a small blue explosion which destroyed part of the floor. Her irises dilated and her eyebrows rose even higher at the unexpected result of her spell, as she knew that this particular charm had no destructive magic infused in it.

The figure did not even react at all, not even registering the presence of a shattered flagstone that was blasted apart at its feet.

A low voice then spoke behind her, sending adrenaline pulsing through her veins and making her bite her lip to hold in a cry from the sudden wave of heat from her left wrist.

"Everything ends now, Ariana."

Her heart was almost beating out of her chest as she whipped her head violently around, causing her lengthy onyx hair to cover her eyes and impede vision temporarily. She raised her wand in blind confusion, its tip glowing red with the precursor of a stunning spell and shouted frantically.

" _Stupef-…"_

The spell was never finished as a cold blackness took over.

* * *

Ariana awoke with a groan and propped herself up to a sitting position on a blackened sofa, her dark lavender robes swirling and swishing around her with the movement. Patting herself down, she realized that all her minor scrapes and burns had all been healed with a powerful restorative spell, as even her aches weren't present.

She also registered that she was in the same room. The stagnant air swirled around crooked white candles that hung limp from rusty chandeliers attached to the ceiling as fragments of plaster lay damp over a long untrodden floor, their only purpose to mould itself into an outline of the stone beneath. Shelves, desks and other sundries lay rotten and blistered by the dampness, nursing the mildew of objects that have but all been abandoned by the living.

Turning her head around from side to side, she spied a grinning man sitting on the far end of the sofa to the right of her and groaned with exasperation at the mirth that was held in his face.

"You really like to end duels with dramatic one-liners don't you, Albus?" she chuckled as she hazily recalled the panic that had been induced by his last statement.

"Whenever I was challenged to a duel, the media would be always watching my every move. They would always get excited to quote the short adages I would say before defeating my opponents," Albus replied as he chuckled, sky blue eyes twinkling as he reminisced about the past.

Albus eyes then lost its hazy look and slightly hardened while taking a deep breath as he changed the topic and begun to lecture young Ariana in the sacred art of warfare, where the smallest of mistakes could lead to the deadliest of consequences.

"Firstly Ariana, never get lulled into the false sense of security when you notice a pattern that the enemy displays. It may be entirely fabricated in order manipulate you on the battlefield," he began, eyes lighting up as the arguably most powerful wizard in the world addressed a ten year old girl that sat cross-legged on the sofa, listening in rapt attention.

"Notice how I created a pattern early on in the duel? I attacked, stood still, and backed off multiple times. After only a few cycles however, I had already hid in the shadows and conjured an image of me doing the exact same movements while I cast the spells hidden under the cover of darkness." Albus continued as he stressed his point, the underlying current of his voice implying that Voldemort was capable of such cunning manoeuvres.

"Secondly, you are still not adapting well to your new body… you take large strides and leaps that almost always fall short of your intended target. Lucky for us, we still have time for you to adapt when we train."

"I'm working on it…. I'll never be used to having long hair too," Ariana blurted out before thinking properly, moaning in annoyance as she remembered how quick turns of her head would make long hair fly in front of her eyes.

Albus's eyebrow quirked up in mild interest at her utterance. "Oh? I take it you always had short hair in the future?"

Ariana froze for a millisecond before nervously laughing, "Yeah, something like that," she coughed as her hands tightened into balls in her folded legs at the minor slip-up. She was getting bewildered about that fact that she was always strangely terrified about letting Albus find out about her true self.

Ignoring the curious action, Albus continued his informative discourse. "Lastly, you are now small in stature and you need to use this to your advantage. When faced with an incoming spell, you have to decide in a split second whether it is more tiring magically and physically to dodge it entirely or cast a shielding charm."

"Wait… isn't it impossible think that fast in a mere second?" Ariana forcefully countered, her eyebrows furrowing in thought, "No one can react to the spell being cast verbally, or silently I might add, assess whether a shield charm is suitable, and either cast it or roll away all in a fraction of time."

Albus sagely nodded at her logical debate and decided to give her a practical demonstration instead of a lengthy lecture. He stood up from the sofa, his dark grey robes unfurling as he withdrew his knobbly wand to point at a dark corner of the derelict room.

"Now close your eyes and look away Ariana. I will now cast two spells and you will tell me the difference between the two… if you can sense any," he instructed as he waited for vivid green eyes to vanish from sight under eyelids that were framed by thick black eyelashes.

Albus silently counted to three before he spoke softly.

" _Lumos."_

After a few seconds, he ended the spell which produced light with a simple counter-spell, and cast the second one silently this time.

" _Lumos Maxima."_

Waiting again for a couple of seconds, he ended the spell which created an even brighter shine and turned back the young girl that was still obediently closing her eyes.

"You can open your eyes now Ariana," Albus began, the old days of teaching Transfiguration kicking him back into warm and encouraging teacher he once was, "What were the two spells that I had just cast?"

Ariana blearily opened her eyes in confusion and turned back to face Albus, "The first one was _Lumos_ obviously since I heard it, but the second one, it… it could have been anything!" she spluttered as her hands waved expressively in the air to emphasize her point.

Albus chuckled at her unconscious and adorable habit before giving her another question, "Now, ignore the first question and answer me this one. Between the two spells, what sort of difference did you feel _magically?"_

"Well… umm… " Ariana hummed and hawed as she scrunched up her face in thought, hands playing with loose strands of hair. She chewed her lip slightly and tapped her inner thighs agitatedly as the cogs and spurs in her mind started turning.

With a jolt, she sat up straighter and her eyes shined brighter as the epiphany struck her. "The second spell felt… similar to the first one, but there was much more power behind it when it was cast," she exclaimed excitedly.

Albus gave a wide smile and clapped his hands enthusiastically, utterly delighted that his budding protégé could recognize the subtle nuances of magic at her tender young age… well not-so-young age, a fact that he had to constantly remind himself with.

"Now with that sorted, to answer your previous question. When locked in combat with a magical opponent, you must first gauge the strength of his spells by sensing the magic and reactively decide which shield charm or barrier you will cast," he began.

"If none intrinsically rise to mind because the spell is an unknown, or if the intensity of the magic is too strong, then you dodge," Albus enunciated and concluded in finality, the side of his mouth curving upward as Ariana sat spellbound with glazed eyes as she played out various scenes in her mind.

Glad that today's lesson was somewhat productive, Albus silently cast a quick _Tempus_ spell to show the time, making red numbers appear and float in the air in front of him.

"Dear Merlin, would you look at that… come along now Ariana, it is way past your bedtime," Albus exclaimed, mischief filling his twinkling eyes.

Ariana rolled her eyes and grinned back before excitedly hopped off the couch after languidly stretching and emitting a loud yawn. Tomorrow was the start of Hogwarts, she both dreaded it and anticipated it at the same time, the thought meeting with particular individuals made her already side splitting grin stretch even further outwards.

Albus lost all traces of his smile as he seemed to figure out what Ariana was thinking about.

"Ariana, remember what we are doing… think about what we are working hard for," he asserted quietly, breaking the silence.

Ariana's face turned glum as she dully recited something she and Albus had talked about numerous times.

"Make sure events stay the same for four years until the end of 1980 because that is when Voldemort will start the war and that is when the location of his Horcruxes will stay fixed."

"Yes Ariana, I know Tom well enough. His intense fear of death means he will have all his Horcruxes safely hidden away from the world before plunging into war. I have already located Marvolo Gaunt's Ring and I'm close to finding out where Slytherin's locket is," Albus firmly reminded.

"I dare not approach the dark curses and traps that surround the ring. Although the hubris of Tom will not permit him to put simple warning charms on the area, I will not take the risk until it is time to strike all of the Horcruxes at once," he ended as Ariana nodded back in accordance, her eyes slightly brighter from the thought of taking Voldemort down.

Albus then clapped his hands and smiled brightly before putting a warm hand on the shoulder of a teetering Ariana, who was physically and mentally exhausted from the training of which she had begged Albus to teach her a while back, of which she had accomplished by using a newly found trick she had learned to master – the puppy eyes.

As they made their way to the only door in the room, an immaculate wooden piece of art that stood out from the rest of the desolate room, Albus was struck by a thought at the last second.

"By the way… I noticed your transfiguration spell was augmented with some sort of explosion charm, I've never seen that combination before. Is that spell one of your creations?"

"Wha-?" Ariana yawned sleepily, her eyes unfocusing as she leaned deeper into the soft folds of Albus' robes.

Albus gave a gentle smile and looked down at her as they exited the room. "Nothing."

Ariana could have sworn that her scar twinged ever so slightly when she turned her head back and looked one last time at the Room of Requirements before the door was slowly shut, sealing up all the good and evil that lay dormant within.

* * *

The early morning mist was beginning to clear. The dew laden grass and cobwebs shone and gleamed with the most basic and intricate of patterns as the orange sun rose into a pink thin layer of cloud. Birds sang gaily to establish their territories as animals stirred sleepily down below in the forest, signalling the chorus of dawn.

Ariana stirred as the soft sounds woke her up from a peaceful slumber, causing her to rustle under warm and cosy duvet while clad in spotted blue pyjamas. Instinctively, her hand reached out from under the comfortable confines to pat around in search of her glasses. Groaning after a few seconds after realizing her situation, she wondered if she'll ever kick that habit and retracted her hand back into the toasty depths.

 _Still no dreams of Voldemort._

She reluctantly threw the deliciously warm covers off her and rolled out of bed, only to jam her feet into a pair of pink fluffy slippers that lay ready and waiting on the floor beside her bed.

 _Well… it's the last night I'll be in this room for a while. Now I have to sleep with a group of…_

Ariana shuddered dramatically as she thought of her impending demise, silently cursing as she knew Albus would not understand her unwillingness to settle in with prepubescent girls.

Sighing loudly, she plodded over to her newly filled cupboard and pulled out a viridian tinged sundress and gathered toiletries, bunching them all up under her arm as her feet automatically guided her towards a private bathroom of which Albus graciously let her use, yawning loudly the entire way.

Albus was already dressed and refreshed when she exited her room to enter his office after she was cleaned and ready. He was furiously pouring through a mountain of paperwork in the early hours of the morning, making sure with one final check that all the legalities and stipulations were in order before the students of Hogwarts arrived.

Ariana cleared her throat, making Albus break his train of thought and jump slightly. She gave a soft smile before speaking.

"Good morning Albus, shall we head over for breakfast now? We best enjoy the last morning of peace and quiet before the mayhem begins," she giggled, strangely eager to be pranked first hand by her father as she recalled him telling her they pranked people en masse and did not single out anyone… save Snape.

 _Snape._

With a small frown, memories flooded back of the scene she had once watched in Snape's mind of her father bullying him mercilessly. No one should be tormented to that degree, however harsh and punishing he was to her in the future.

No matter how much Ariana tried to be otherwise, she had always carried a pure and gentle core within her fiery depths of her heart. With conviction, she decided to do something about the situation, but not before paling because her body and soul were always one step ahead of her mind.

 _Do not change events. Do NOT change events._

Rebellious thoughts drove themselves deep into her brain as her good-natured soul fought against her own calculating mind.

 _Severus Snape in the future was a man that was a product of constant abuse… from his home, his schoolmates, and even his new master._

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at her last thought.

 _Wait-… how did I know about Snape's home life?_

… _Anyway, I need to do something, his life is miserable since he has no true friends in Slytherin and it would be best if-_

 _DO NOT CHANGE ANYTHING._

She squeezed her eyes shut in strife as an internal battle in her head waged a war between what was the right thing to do, and what were the things to do right.

She was so horribly confused by everything that was happening currently in her life, the moral and physical boundaries that constrained her body and mind had led her on like a helpless puppet that was jolted and tugged around by the thin strings that held her fragile body upright.

"-ana…. Ariana? Can you hear me?"

She pried open slightly wet eyes as she blinked unfocusedly and rubbed her eyes with her fists to clear the pervading haze on her vision. A face of a man she had come to become very fond of swam into focus.

"I've been calling your name for a while now… is everything alright?" Albus gently questioned, used to the volatile and often puzzling emotional behaviour exhibited by his young charge.

Rubbing her forearm across her eyes on last time, she banished all of her dismal and dreary thoughts as she gave a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room.

"Everything is fine Albus, shall we?" she beamed as she gestured towards the Great Hall. They both made their way down, only stopping to pet a trilling phoenix on their way out.

Ariana stuck very close to Albus as they ambled down the grand corridors of the castle, subconsciously moving out of sight from a trickle of students that had stayed in Hogwarts for the holidays due to various circumstances.

Breakfast was one of her favourite events of the day, as it was one of the only time she really got out of her room for fresh air since the rest of her day would of consist of either her pouring over a plethora of old and dusty manuscripts relating to Horcruxes, various ancient spells and dark rituals, or Albus training her rigorously.

As they entered through the open doors of the Great Hall, Ariana immediately spotted Professor McGonagall, Slughorn and Flitwick eating together cheerily while quietly having a discussion.

The Professors collectively turned their heads towards the presence of new arrivals and acknowledged the sight, causing Ariana to grin and wave her hand madly in the air to greet them. Minerva gave a soft smile and nodded in return; Horace gave a hearty laugh with a twinkle in his eye while Filius waved madly back in return, almost rocking his tiny body off his seat with the action.

Ariana bounded over to them and started conversing warmly with both Professor Slughorn and Flitwick as Minerva quietly discussed some last minute administrative matters with Albus. Long after their meals were finished, Ariana was still entertaining the two men, well one man and one half-goblin, causing them to laugh uproariously every so often at her expressive antics.

Minerva leaned over to Albus on her side and whispered in his ear, "That girl has something special about her… don't you agree, Albus? The room always brightens when she enters."

Albus chuckled beneath his bushy silver beard, "She is certainly special alright, more than you could possibly imagine," he whispered back.

Minerva raised an eye in fondness at the cryptic statement, thoroughly used to his ramblings and often barmy quotes after all the long years she had known the man.

The moment was interrupted as Ariana bounced over to stand in front of Albus with her hands behind her back, eyes glinting with hidden mischief.

"The cereal and fruit was nice and all… but those cream puffs made by the house elf Hooky are just too tasty. Albus, can we head down to the kitchens please?" she begged, eyes glazing over as her tongue stuck out slightly at the side of her mouth at the thought, creating a comic sight.

"Remember the last time you were high on sugar in the morning? I thought so. We'll have them at lunch instead," Albus firmly denied as Ariana gazed into his eyes, the other professors looking on in amusement.

Ariana said nothing; widening her eyes while the bottom of her lip quavered, she stared morosely at Albus as she clasped her hands in front of her chest. His heart almost missed a beat at the sight as a jolt ran through him.

"A-Ariana… please stop looking at me like that," Albus groaned weakly as he covered his face with a hand in an attempt to block the sight. After a few seconds he hesitantly peaked through his fingers, only to find the same face staring at him but with even wider eyes this time.

"FINE… fine, let's go," he wearily grumbled as he gave in and stood up, ignoring the snickers of his colleagues as he banished away the used utensils and bowls that lay strewn on the wooden table.

"She certainly has you firmly wrapped around her finger, old friend," Horace boomed with a belly-laugh, causing Minerva and Filius to join in at the sight of Ariana leading a slightly drooping Albus out through the doors of the Great Hall.

Ariana was humming happily and was skipping as they made their way down the staircase that led to the Hufflepuff Basement which also led to the kitchens. They made their way to a painting of a bowl of fruit along one of the corridors and after tickling the pear in the scene, it transformed into a green door-knob that led them into the warm glow and heat of a place of which almost all students had no idea existed.

A loud shout greeted them as they entered, making Albus jump slightly while Ariana stood calmly, as if she expected such a hullabaloo of a welcome.

"MISS KISMET IS BACK, READY THE CREAM PUFFS!"

A short and pink house elf with flappy ears and huge nose bounded up to them with a large smile on its face.

Albus chucked at the strange moniker, "Miss Kismet, is it? And something tells me this isn't your first visit here either," he said to Ariana with twinkling eyes.

Ariana grinned up in mischief towards him before turning towards a house elf that seemed to be bouncing left and right on the balls of its feet with excitement. "Hello again Hooky, I trust everyone doing well and is making the tastiest food in the whole world?" she brightly greeted.

Large tears filled Hooky's eyes as he grabbed a protesting house elf beside him, "Miss Kismet is always so kind to us, she is the greatest witch on the planet she is," Hooky wailed, ignoring the annoyed cries and flailing arms of the other elf as he sobbed into the other elf's apron.

Ariana looked on gently and giggled before prying him off the other elf and tried to calm him down while other house elves came running up to her with plates full off cream puffs.

Albus was warmed at the sight of Ariana interacting so kindly with the house elves; many a wizard and witch looked down on them with disdain in their everyday life just because they behaved and looked different.

When they finished what they had come for, they exited the kitchens, making Ariana give her stomach a contented pat on the way out as they made their way back to Albus' office. Realizing something suddenly, Ariana turned to face her companion that had accompanied her on her sinful escapade.

"By the way Albus, what does 'Miss Kismet' mean? All the house elves call me that no matter what I say. Must be some sort of house elf nickname right?" she guessed as she tapped her finger against her chin in thought.

Albus with his ever flowing fountain of knowledge was always a figure she unconsciously looked to in times of need.

"It is not a form or endearment nor a nickname at all, Ariana. It is simply a word of the English language; it is close synonym to destiny… or fate," Albus corrected distractedly, his mind still focused on the mountain of creams puffs that Ariana had coaxed him to eat along with her a couple of minutes ago.

Ariana froze and stopped walking for a millisecond before picking up the pace to match Albus' long strides, unbeknownst to him that her fists were tightened into balls, hard enough to draw a hint of blood.

Surprised that she was relatively calm and her magic wasn't flaring up, she sardonically turned her thoughts to a plane that existed above the mortal one.

 _Very funny._

Albus was still observant enough to notice Ariana's slight discomfort. "Are you feeling alright? I told you eating that pile of cream puffs would upset your stomach," he gently admonished as he too felt the effects their gluttony rumble in his stomach as well.

Ariana shook her head slowly before giving her familiar and distinctive glowing smile that would often send Albus to bed with a lighter heart. "I'm fine Albus, we should prepare for the students arriving tonight. I'll help in any way possible," she warmly responded as she assertively clutched his hand.

Albus gazed into her face and felt all his worries disappear as he felt her infectious happiness spread to him, making his fingers and toes tingle warmly. He knew that the power of love brought hope; no matter how destructive it was, no matter how much it hurt. He squeezed her hand gently and gave an affectionate smile, causing her eyes to green eyes to radiantly shine in return.

"Let's go."

* * *

A/N: This update was slightly slow because I was quite sick recently, they will most likely be out faster after this one! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 9**

A starry night loomed above, pretty enough to ignite the heart of any nature's child, yet one of them had yet to cast their eyes upwards to see it. All they cared about was a single bright light that penetrated the inky darkness of the cold night, one source of light which had no possibility of being a celestial body.

Eyes lay transfixed on the single speck on the horizon, captivated by the encroaching brightness as it grew to a point where it seemed to dull the stars that speckled and glittered in the heavens above. The tranquil silence, although sometimes broken by the soft hoot of a passing owl, was broken by the steadily increasing melody of ringing, rumbling, and clanking.

The sound of a whistle permeated the air, the sound fading like a forlorn call in the night. Loud hissing and screeching heralded the arrival of a beast that had finally returned to a place which many people would one day fondly look back upon in remembrance.

The Hogwarts Express had arrived.

Ariana grinned widely in the dim light from the vantage point of her room, watching the majestic train come to a complete stop and the stream of students that poured out from its crimson carriages as one. Her feelings were conflicted at the sight as she realized that this particular train was one of great joy and sorrow to her, for it brought her away from and back to a hellish prison.

 _The Dursleys are not my only family anymore; my real family is still alive._

Nodding happily in self-reassurance, she gently rested her head on folded hands that lay on the windowsill and observed with a fond smile at the towering figure of Hagrid in the distance that was ushering the first years to small wooden boats that each held a lamp aft while the rest of the students walked around a bend towards the castle.

The individual gait of each student was ever so different from one another. Some were almost skipping, so exquisite was their joy of leaving their previous worlds behind them for another. Others walked as if they were boarding a badly kept muggle bus, no more exciting than any other commute. Then there were the nervous ones, quick steps and stern faces, everything about them tight and fearful.

Ariana's eyes burned bright into the shadows at the latter as she viewed the vista and its occupants.

 _They are most likely the muggleborns._

She tightened her fists into balls as her recent training, her clandestine readings of arcane and forbidden books without the permission of Albus in addition to the barely controlled but powerful magic within her, gave her a heightened sense of power and responsibility.

 _Do not have any fear; you are under my protection once you walk within these walls._

She let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding.

 _The stench of Voldemort is already starting to settle in many places, his publicly announced targets now have the seed of fear planted deep within them._

Her musing was interrupted as a sudden burst of fire erupted into existence beside her and caused her to emit a loud shriek, almost jumping out of the open window in shock.

The distinctive royal crest and velvet-like red and gold plumage of Albus' bonded familiar appeared out of thin air and trilled in laughter at her reaction, perching steadily on the windowsill as amusement filled its wise and sentient black eyes.

"Fawkes you evil creature, I could of fallen out the window – and in case you forgot, humans don't possess wings, " Ariana scolded with a hand held over chest, calming down her heart rate as a beginning of a smile quirked up at the side of her lips.

Fawkes raised its head and trilled loudly in a note of levity, the tune playing across several octaves in a split second.

"You're certainly right about that one," Ariana giggled, the interpretation of the melodious tune seemingly making perfect sense to her.

"I certainly do know a few levitation spells... and I also know you won't let me fall now would you, you big softie?" she murmured as her fingers gently stroked the phoenix's head.

Fawkes lost track of time as it crooned in pleasure at the action and leaned into the touch, oblivious to its surroundings as the massage lulled it into a hypnotic state.

Straightening up with an undignified squawk after a while as it remembered the initial purpose for the visit, it ruffled its chest and burst into birdsong directed towards Ariana once more, but this time it was for a few seconds longer.

Ariana bit her lip in nervousness at the message, still not seeing the logic that Albus had presented her with that she needed to attend Hogwarts again.

"I'll meet with the first years just outside the Great Hall if that's fine… I'd rather not mingle with them just yet," she hesitantly responded, a barely suppressed grimace marring her pleasant features at the thought.

Fawkes gave an understanding nod and prepared to depart in a flash of phoenix fire to Albus to relay Ariana's decision, but stopped just at the last second as it had sensed something slightly amiss.

It lowered its large and resplendent wings and folded them back slowly onto its soft body; critically eyeing the puzzled young girl as it tilted its head and stared intensely at her.

Phoenixes were the magical embodiment and paragons of light, purity and valour. Their cries uplifted those that were pure of heart and caused distress to those harbouring ill will in them, the intensity of pleasure or pain dictated by the extent of the virtue or malice.

Fawkes then suddenly opened its golden beak, proudly displaying its tail that was as long as a peacock's, and burst into rapturous song. Ariana felt her heart lighten and lips curve upwards to smile softly as warmth started to fill every fibre of her being. All seemed well; but at the very last note, all the serenity vanished as Ariana winced in slight pain.

Fawkes trilled mournfully as it noticed the flinch of discomfort. It knew that Ariana had a gnawing stain on her soul but it could also sense that the hate and rage was foreign in nature. It also knew that Ariana had always tried her very hardest to suppress and banish the evil nature that lay within.

Fawkes had taken immediate liking to Ariana when they had first met, as she had owned one of the purest souls it had ever encountered over its long years of existence. But to feel pain from the song meant that of her own will, she intended to cause harm to someone, to take revenge, to end a life.

Ariana looked down from a penetrating and seemingly disappointed gaze as her muscles tensed. Thinking back to dark spells she had learned recently from certain books and to the people that had almost tortured her into insanity, she looked at the floor with a stoic manner while her lips grew thin. A tense silence stretched on.

"I am only human, Fawkes," Ariana finally whispered. Fawkes said nothing but continued to stare at her with a look of sadness and pity.

"Who are you to judge, the whole world is my responsibility do you understand that?" Ariana spat, her voice rising with every word.

Her body started to shake while her mind clouded over in anger. _"_ You have no idea what I have been through. _YOU KNOW NOTHING_ …" Ariana screamed wildly at the end as the burden of countless lives pressed down harder and harder on her thin shoulders with each passing moment.

Fawkes simply watched in silence as it waited for her body to stop shaking before flying over to her bed and gesturing with its head for Ariana to sit down beside it **,** of which she reluctantly complied and shuffled over.

Ariana sobbed as hot angry tears rolled down her face when she sat down, hugging Fawkes for dear life and pressing its fiery body against her, the flickering flames not burning but providing a warm aura of comfort and safety.

It took a few minutes for Ariana's outburst, which had been suppressed for a few weeks, to dissipate. She untangled herself and wiped away stray tears before turning to the patient bird that was looking expectantly at her.

"I'm sorry, and you're right… this isn't me," she began hoarsely, "And why in Great Merlin's name do I start crying so easily?" she continued with a watery laugh, not remembering at all the last time she had broke down like this in her previous life.

Ariana felt a heavy weight on her soul disappear when she laughed and gasped in shock when her whole room was suddenly lit up brilliantly with white light. As she frantically looked around for the source through tear-stained eyes, she glanced down and realized that she herself was the wellspring of light as her entire body was radiating with power.

Turning over and looking at her glittering arms and legs, she turned to the sagacious beast beside her, "Fawkes, what is happening to me?" she breathed loudly.

Fawkes responded only by gently pressed its head against her own and giving a series of barely audible chirps before disappearing in a flash of fire before Ariana could retort. The illumination that her skin emitted gradually diminished into nothingness and Ariana sat in the darkness in silence for a moment in contemplation.

"What do you mean by ' _this is who you really are'_ you daft bird… you're just as cryptic as Albus," she muttered as she filed this moment away in her brain to tell the said man later tonight. With a jolt, she sat up straight and slapped her hand against her head as her mind refocused, her previous mood completely vanishing.

"The sorting… I hope I'm not too late," she groaned, already forgetting what had just happened and leaping off her bed already clad in Hogwarts robes, her black hair gleaming in the moonlight.

As she ran through the empty corridors towards the Great Hall, she realized with incredulity that the burn on her wrist due to her emotional attack had been mysteriously healed.

Dismissing the seemingly trivial thought as her mind was focused on other things; she puffed up her cheeks and took longer strides, her tiny body bouncing through space and time to begin a whole new journey that would one day bring adventure, fear, mystery, and most importantly, love.

* * *

Ariana rounded a corner and was panting loudly as she spotted the throng of first years that were already filing in through the large doorway into the Great Hall. Blessing her luck, she ran towards the assembly with one final burst of speed, making a few heads turn in curiosity at the noisy spectacle.

A noisy harrumph greeted her as she approached, disapproving eyes looking over her flushed face and slightly dishevelled hair. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow as Ariana guiltily shuffled her feet and bit her lower lip nervously, knowing that Minerva had a strict predisposition for punctuality.

"Luckily you did find your way here after all or you would have made things very awkward indeed," Professor McGonagall chided, creating a gap in the line of students and nudging Ariana in-between two first years, both of them thoroughly confused as they thought first years only arrived by boat.

Ariana flashed Minerva a grateful smile and trundled through with the doorway with the other students that were already in motion. Usually Minerva would lead the students in on the first day of school but she waited only until Ariana had arrived to enter herself, placing herself last in the line.

As Ariana entered the grand hall and she gave a contented sigh at the sight that awaited her. No more was the Great Hall empty, no more was it dismal and dreary. Now its four benches were full to bursting with cheerful and animated students that had the potential for anything and everything as they watched a line of children march down the centre of the hall and wait to be sorted.

Ariana drowned out the welcoming speech and sorting hat song as she turned and twisted her head in every direction to see if she could recognize any face, with her eyes straying predominately towards the Gryffindor table. She gave up after a while as she forgot to take into account her new height and doubt she could still see even if she tip-toed.

She quickly shook her head and focused on the oncoming roll call as Professor McGonagall unfurled a piece of parchment, the sorting hat ready and waiting on top of a wooden chair in front of all the professors and school body.

"Bones, Amelia."

A blond haired girl anxiously approached the chair and Professor McGonagall quickly put the hat on her head and waited for it to make the final decision, knowing that once one person was placed into a house, the general anxiety to be sorted would soon vanish amongst those still waiting for their turn.

Ariana scrunched up her face as her mind quickly recalled out the memory she needed to remember.

 _Susan Bones once said that her Aunt was one of the brightest students in Hufflepuff._

 _I've also seen a plaque of hers for having grades that beat every Ravenclaw once while I was in detention. I think I even met her once at tha-…_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ariana's blood froze in her veins as she sucked her breath in sharply with wide eyes at the announcement, her mind turning into a jumbled mess of panicked thoughts.

 _How is this possible? Is this my fault?… but I have only been outside of Hogwarts only once since I arrived. What-.._

She lost touch with reality as her train of thought continued down many paths, each one trying logically to come up with an answer. She was soon snapped out of it as her new name was called loudly and clearly for her turn to be sorted.

Another memory filled her mindscape as she recalled sitting down in her room during on one stormy night with Albus.

" _So Ariana, have you decided what surname you would like to have? It would need to be not traceable or suspicious so nothing modern or popular, but nothing too obscure either," Albus cautioned as he sat on the foot of her bed._

 _Ariana lightly shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance as she leant against the window frame, the whole fiasco of attending Hogwarts again and taking on a fake name seemed just totally bizarre to her._

" _Albus, do I really need to do this? Why can't I just work from the shadows and focus on taking down Voldemort instead of useless schooling," she objected in slight anger._

 _Albus kept silent for a moment before speaking._

" _You may be right in some aspects," he admitted softly, "But there is more to this than what you are suggesting."_

" _Your stories of what I put you through still send shudders through me every night. Did I really become that sort of person in just a few years from now?" he questioned more to himself than to Ariana as his eyes grew dim._

" _I… I want you to have a normal childhood for once. Make normal friends; enjoy life as a child should."_

 _Ariana gave a gentle smile and she walked over to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We both know that's impossible. You know my stories… trouble seems to find me wherever I go," she sighed in defeat._

 _All of a sudden a light turned on in her head to answer Albus' initial question and she jerked her head up and said just one word, not noticing that Albus' hand had jumped straight to his wand in slight fear as she uttered it._

" _Peverell."_

Ariana blinked rapidly to refocus on what was happening in the real world, not surprised that viewing a memory internally took only a fraction of a second for her now, something she would never get used to.

Walking up the stairs, she raised her Occlumency shields with all the strength she had, not completely trustworthy of the sentient hat just yet. As the brown hat was placed on her head, it hummed in curiosity and started speaking softly so that only she could hear it in a leathery voice.

"Oh my, it's been centuries since I've sorted someone like you."

"Someone like me… what do you mean by that?" Ariana whispered back in confusion.

"Sorry, not allowed to tell you anything; one of the rules of being a sorting hat. Anyway, back to your sorting," the hat continued, cutting off whatever retort Ariana planned to say.

"I see a tremendous amount of bravery in you… and oh such cunning too. Your loyalty is to a fault and your intelligence although mostly untapped, has potential to be vast."

"Tricky… very tricky. However, I can sense that there is only one path to greatness and that is –"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The school burst in polite applause, particularly her new housemates as she made her way down to sit at the end of the wooden table that was situated under red and gold banners. There was only one person that wasn't clapping. A pair of narrowed eyes was staring at her the entire time ever since she was called up and had refused to look anywhere else.

Professor Dumbledore soon stood up after the sorting had finished, tinkling a glass with a small silver spoon to gather everyone's attention.

Ariana once again ignored the speech as she felt a constant prickle on the back of her neck. She sat quietly in discomfort while the rest of the people around her had already started digging into the food before them. She turned her head ever so slightly and her eyes widened as her gaze was locked in with sharp hazel eyes.

She recognized them immediately, curiously noticing that there were a multitude of emotions swirling within those eyes, even at a distance. Giving a serene smile towards her father in greetings, although slightly perplexed by the undecipherable emotions, James hesitantly smiled back a few seconds later causing her to jump for joy internally.

She then broke eye contact with him and looked past him, spying the face of a much younger Sirius laughing uproariously while stuffing his face with food while an equally youthful but slightly haunted looking Remus looked on in slight disgust. Ariana grew weak and felt butterflies in her stomach at the first sight of two other young men whom she had also considered father figures in her life.

She then lost all joy and shuddered as Remus moved his head slightly forward to expose a man who had given her hell and pain in her previous life, a person who she had once vowed to hurt along with two other people when she had arrived back in time.

Peter Pettigrew still had a mouse-like look in his younger age, his large front teeth and nervous and darting eyes gave her flashbacks of old memories and made her clench her fists in balls while her blood boiled and screamed for retribution, her eyes tinging red for a fraction of a second.

Suddenly, her anger dissipated and she let out a shaky breath, massaging her temples as she forced her rippling magic back into her core.

 _Am I really condemning him for the sins of his future self?_

She was broken out of her thoughts as she felt a small tap on her shoulder. Looking to her right, a gentle and feminine face gazed at her in slight concern.

"Umm… you're Ariana Peverell right? Are you not hungry? I can put away some food for you to eat later if you want," Amelia Bones offered in a friendly manner, exuding only goodwill in her demeanour.

Deciding to still keep low profile and speak only when she really needed to, she simply gave a gentle smile in return and shook her head, her expressive eyes displaying all the information Amelia wanted to see.

Ameila was only satisfied when Ariana started tucking into the scrumptious dinner that had consisted of every kind of dish imaginable. Ariana spent the rest of the dinner in total silence, trying her hardest to blend into the background as everyone chatted animatedly during the entire event.

Albus then stood up after all the dishes had been cleared away, tinkling a small glass goblet with a spoon once again to gather everyone's undivided attention.

"I'm sure everyone has been hearing about the new dangers out there in the wizarding world," he began, noticing with some sadness that some students were looking around nervously.

"However, I can guarantee you with all the power invested in me that you will walk safe within these walls," he continued strongly, the war hardened wizard speaking this time instead of the kindly old headmaster.

"If you have any problems that you want to talk about, feel free to approach me or any of the other professors for advice. Now, off to bed with the lot of you. Goodnight!" he finished, dismissing the school as the prefects started leading the students out the hall to their respective houses.

Just as Ariana was following a prefect to the Gryffindor dorm, she spied a mass of fiery red hair at the other end of a corridor. Her heart jumped in her mouth at the familiar sight and she tip-toed as much as she could to try to see its owner, but to no avail as a flurry of black Hogwarts robes obscured her view.

She jumped slightly as a hand came down on her shoulder. Professor McGonagall's face came into view as she bent down to whisper in Ariana's ear.

"The Headmaster would like to see you for a brief moment in the back hallway."

Ariana looked back at her and nodded and followed the retreating Professor to a waiting Albus around a bend. He looked up gratefully at the two approaching figures and nodded to his colleague.

"My deepest thanks Minerva. Ariana, would you mind coming to my office for a short moment? There is just some last minute paperwork about your Gringotts account," Albus began with a calm and cool face.

Minerva raised her eye at the statement. "Are you sure this needs to be done now Albus? I'm sure this young lady is terribly tired and like some shut eye as soon as possible."

Albus raised his arms placating as he knew that she only cared about the girl. "Only for a little while, this is urgent," he declared.

Ariana interjected swiftly as she caught the hidden message. "It's fine Professor McGonagall, I'm not that tired," she said brightly, showing all her teeth in a radiant smile making Minerva melt a little at the sight.

Minerva sighed in defeat as she whirled back to Albus with a pointed finger, "She better be in her room in twenty minutes," she warned.

Albus chuckled at Minerva's protective and fiery spirit, one characteristic she had never lost since her arrival in Hogwarts many years ago and nodded in acceptance, "You have my promise."

As she disappeared around the corner, the two people left then made their way quickly to Albus's office. When they entered, Ariana shut the door quickly and threw up a silencing ward, something essential which Albus had taught her recently.

"Albus, what has happened?"

Albus looked slightly surprised for a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing is wrong. The reason why I have called you here is not about anything like that but… how you acted tonight."

Ariana paled as her mind went through all the things she had done during the sorting and feast. "Did I mess up? Was I not meant to even respond or did I-…" Ariana rambled breathlessly in a voice of panic.

Albus raised his one arm calmly to quell her barrage of alarmed questions.

"Ariana, I noticed that you ignored your housemates and would not speak to any of them. Why aren't you interacting with them?" he questioned curiously.

Ariana looked bewildered for a second before responding to his seemingly inane declaration. "I am trying to keep my involvement in this world at a minimum... you know all about this," she spluttered, trying to make sense of this conversation.

Albus gave a heavy sigh and turned away from her to walk to the window. He rested his head gently against the cool pane, enjoying the soft moonlight that washed over him.

"I know you are not a child but I had promised you a chance at a normal childhood. A second time over for a chance at new life, a new beginning," he softly spoke as he looked down at the Forbidden Forest, the silhouette of every tree gently swaying back and forth in harmony from a gentle breeze.

"What about the plan about not changing anything so that there is absolutely no risk of Voldemort creating a new Horcrux or not even creating one at all?" Ariana hissed quietly, filled with confused anger.

Albus shuddered as the words hit home, his mind breathing to life a single phrase that echoed throughout his entire being.

 _For the greater good._

He ferociously whirled around at the thought, his purple robes flinging around wildly at the action as he stared at the wide eyed girl before him.

"No, NO… I will not become the man of your future," he almost shouted in slight desperation.

"You think you haven't changed anything, but did you see how James was looking at you? Can't you see? You've already changed me, one of the biggest players in the resistance against Voldemort," Albus continued in a quieter but still stressed tone.

Ariana jerked up straight and realized the immensity of the truth in Albus's words. Albus refused to let her retort as he carried on.

"You have also been speaking to Hagrid and the other professors frequently in the past few weeks. What other events have you changed by just your presence being there?" he concluded quietly, his mind clearing slightly.

Thinking back to the oddity in the case of Ameila Bones as well, Ariana bit her lip and she thought of having the chance to properly converse with the people she loved.

"They are your family, not many people in this world have had a second chance to talk their deceased loved ones" Albus said quietly, reading her thoughts from the ever-changing expressions on her face.

Ariana opened her mouth slowly, the entire argument brought by the wise man in front of her slowly eroded at her thoughts. She struggled to speak as her entire mind conflicted with itself.

"I…I will acquaint myself with some of my housemates in my year but I won't speak to anyone else just yet. I can't risk it… not after seeing what Voldemort does in the future," she murmured in response, her mind still not fully swayed.

"Just think this over tonight," Albus responded as he breathed a silent sigh of relief at the compromise. "Anyway, you really should get going; Minerva would be after my head if you're just a millisecond late," he chuckled with twinkling eyes, his mood lightening as Ariana gave a small smile in return.

After saying goodnight to Albus, she made her way down the deserted corridors to the Gryffindor dormitory, spying frisky groups of students that were out after curfew once or twice on the way.

Knowing exactly where to go, her weary legs automatically climbed the steps and entered the room, noticing that all the lights were off and her housemates was sleeping. She looked around the place quickly, searching for a free bed where she would wanted to desperately flop down on.

Her mind whirred in confusion as she realized that small and shadowy bodies each occupied each and every bed, leaving no spare one for her. She cursed internally at the thought of trying to solve an issue like this so late into the night when everyone was sleeping.

After a good second or two, she slapped her forehead in exhaustion.

 _Yup, totally forgot I'm a girl again. Good going Ariana… you'll be sure to defeat Voldemort like this._

She trudged down the stairs and took the other set of stairs that led to the girl's quarters in slight self-loathing, her bad mood an accumulation of everything that had happened today.

She gently pushed the door open and peeked into the room with trepidation. The room was dark expect for one bed, where the outline of a young girl reading a book in the candlelight was seen.

The figure behind the curtain raised its head at the noise of the door being opened and drew her curtains around her bed back to smile at the intruder.

Ameila's blonde hair tumbled down her pyjamas as her head peeked out.

"Professor McGonagall said you might be a bit late, so I stayed up to make sure you were okay since you didn't seem that well at dinnertime," she whispered as softly as possible, trying not to disturb the other occupants in the room.

Ariana immediately made for the only free bed that was beside Ameila's and nervously turned to her when she reached it. She gulped as she took her mind took the next step forward.

"T-thank you, Ameila," she stammered quietly.

Ameila's eyes lit up at a response, as she had been trying to get Ariana to feel welcome and talk the entire time during the feast.

"No problem. Goodnight then, see you tomorrow," Amelia yawned, desperate for some sleep herself.

Ariana could not hold it in much longer and just had to question her right there and then.

"Umm… do you mind just answering one question before we both head off to sleep?" she hesitantly asked.

After Ameila indicated that she did not mind, Ariana took a deep breath and continued.

"I don't mean any disrespect but… you seem too kind and good-natured to be in in this house, why are you not in Hufflepuff instead?"

Ameila immediately looked off to the side in discomfort at the sudden question. Noticing it immediately, Ariana intended to come up with a diplomatic follow-up but was stopped as Ameila looked back at her as she decided to say whatever she had to say.

"My uncle and aunt were recently attacked by Death Eaters but they survived the ordeal and been training me in defensive magic and to be braver ever since," she breathed quietly in a rush.

Ariana frowned in thought before replying, "Who are your uncle and aunt?"

"Devin and Marlene McKinnon," Ameila answered as she bit her lip, as if holding back more information. Sensing that Ariana was trustworthy, she continued.

"I also overheard them talking to my parents one night that a Dark Lord that was there too, apparently he started screaming in pain just before he was about to k-kill them," she stuttered at the end, slightly upset from the thought her relatives' close shave with death.

Before Ariana's mind could react, her body had stepped forward and enclosed the other girl in a gentle and protective hug.

"Don't worry, your family is safe now and you are also safe here," she murmured into Ameila's ear as her arms were encircled around her.

After a few moments they broke apart with Ameila looking at the other girl with grateful eyes, glad that she had trusted her judgement of her character of the pretty young girl.

After saying their goodnights, Ariana changed into her pyjamas as all her belongings were already beside her bed in a trunk, and flopped down onto her bed in darkness, groaning in pleasure from the way she sunk into the soft pillow and equally soft mattress.

She idly traced the outline up her triangle shaped necklace that she was still wearing and let her mind take over as she drifted off to sleep.

 _Voldemort screaming in pain? Could it be?..._

 _I had almost forgotten about my connection with Voldemort ever since I've severed the intrusions with Occlumency and the mysterious magic._

Just as her tired body started to shut down, a thought drifted to the surface.

 _OH, and I forgot to tell Albus about that incident with Fawkes earlier today… definitely tomorrow I'll…_

As the last of her willpower faded, she ventured off into the world of dreams, a place where she could see everyone and anyone just one more time.

* * *

A/N: A big thank you to the readers and those that have reviewed constructively. I couldn't of possibility made it this far without everyone's support!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 10**

Ariana awoke the next morning to the sound of breathing that wasn't her own. It was light and delicate, like the gentle rubbing and rustling of fabric from a gossamer gown.

Her eyes blearily opened in pitch blackness and she dazedly pushed herself up into a sitting position, automatically tensing up at the unfamiliar situation as the desynchronized chorus of soft snores sent off warning bells in her head. After a second of utter confusion, she realized where she was and let out a sigh while slumping back down onto her warm pillow in slight relief.

Knowing that she couldn't get back to sleep, she reluctantly threw off her deliciously warm duvet and drew back her bed curtains ever so slightly, peeking out in trepidation into the inky blackness as her eyes slowly dilated and adjusted to her surroundings.

Eyes roved over the other sleeping figures and were assured that everyone else was still sound asleep. Drawing up her curtains around her bed, she pulled out her wand from under her pillow and furtively looked around before casting a relatively advanced spell for her age.

" _Tempus."_

A quiet whisper breathed to life fiery red numbers that danced and floated in the air, signalling that it was five in the early hours of the morning.

 _A little earlier than when I usually wake up… but at least I have more time for my routine._

After a muffled yawn and a languid stretch, she crept out of her bed over to her trunk that lay propped up against a stone wall beside her, glad that her bed was the first in the semi-circle layout and was nearest to the door that exited the room.

Gathering up her necessities, she glanced back one more time towards the sleeping occupants before slipping out of the room in complete silence.

The castle was deathly still as she padded her way to the seventh floor, sticking to the shadows as she tried to stay out of sight of even the slumbering portraits that housed the walls of Hogwarts.

Once arriving to her destination, she paced back and forth quickly in front of a nondescript wall three times over as she repeated only one sentence in her mind.

 _I need a place where I can become a master of magic._

She looked up after the third time and gave a triumphant smirk as a glossy black door which led to the Room of Requirement appeared. It was adorned with the symbol of two giant snakes were entwined and fighting each other; one was shimmering white while the other was blood red, both of them sinking their long fangs into the other.

"I keep forgetting how creepy this door looks like… especially in the dark," Ariana muttered to herself as she pushed opened the doors, a sense of foreboding causing her to shiver slightly.

A high hall greeted her with walls that were so deathly black that it seemed to drown out the natural darkness of the morning itself. Candles that floated lazily in the air above her shone upon old wooden bookshelves that defined the room, stretching upwards for meters on end as they were decorated with ancient books and manuscripts.

Ariana immediately shut the door behind her and made her way through the grand room, her footsteps echoing as she approached a greying desk that had books scattered across on its surface. She sat down on a waiting chair and flipped opened some of the books in familiarly and skimmed over the others in mild interest.

"Let's see here… already finished that book on how to bind dark curses to physical objects…" she murmured, flipping through books one after the other and deciding which one she should read next. "Ah, this one looks interesting… _The Art of Internal Destruction."_

She plopped herself down, still clad in her dark blue pyjamas as she opened the book to its first page with hands snugly supporting her cheeks, soon lost in the pursuit of knowledge. It would have made an adorable sight if one were to not glance upon the contents of the book.

Ariana kept a careful eye on the time and every now and then cast the spell that informed her of it. She was becoming more methodical and calculating; no more was she the lazy and unmotivated schoolchild.

Deciding after an hour that it was time for the practical part of her session, she sat up straight and turned the pages back to a particular one as her brain memorized a single spell.

She then stood up and stripped off her pyjamas, only to then clothe herself with a strange leather attire alongside some complementary dragon hide armour which she had found whilst exploring the great room.

"It is fortunate that magically shrinking an object is not a hard feat," she said to herself with visible admiration as she looked down at her small body that donned the new apparel.

She pushed recent memories out of her mind in slight regret and her eyes hardened as she readied her wand.

 _I'm sorry Fawkes… but to fight against avid users of Dark Magic, I need to understand them fully myself._

 _I need to be familiar with the subtle flavours of magic so I can recognize them instantly on the battlefield… just as Albus taught me._

She turned towards the end of the room, where dummies that were made of straw that had seemingly been here for centuries that had been designed for practice had visible signs of wear and tear on their magically strengthened frames.

Normally she would have been vehemently protested against what she was currently doing, but the gravity of the situation had forced her to do the unthinkable… to perform dark spells.

Ariana closed her eyes as she visualized the wand motions and intent in her mind. Such a thing came naturally to her now, as if she had been casting spells of a dark nature all her life. A resounding shout broke the silence.

" _Invorto!"_

A slight thrill went through her as a dark purple spell burst out from the tip of her wand and flew across the room to slam into one of the dummies. The spell that was designed to transfer whatever lay inside of an object to its exterior produced a morbid display as straw pushed itself out from the centre of the already deformed figure of the dummy and tumble to the floor.

She then suddenly leapt to the side and begun casting a flurry of new spells that she had recently learned over the past few weeks, displaying a myriad of colours as she twirled around the room in an elegant and deadly dance.

She paused after a few minutes of weaving spells and dropped her wand down to her side, panting hard as she eyed the destruction that had been laid waste to the other side of the room with some satisfaction. She took a deep breath and begun the dance once again, but this time thinking of what all that had happened the day before as well.

 _What could have made Albus change his mind about me? He was the master strategist that put our plan forward in motion. He has even planned what to do with the first generation of Death Eaters… with Lucius and his ilk._

 _Why risk everything?_

She stood still and paused temporarily as her brain was wracked with a wave of thoughts.

 _I do recall that he mentioned something about a childhood._

She let out a short bark of harsh laughter and she bitterly shook her head.

"Harry or Ariana James Potter … whoever I am now, has and will never achieve happiness. I know where my path lies… I am just a tool to defeat Voldemort – nothing more," she growled as she raised her wand towards the dummies once again.

Dark thoughts clouded her mind, making her viciously cast more deadly and more explosive curses with each passing second. A pillar of fiery smoke and dust, still boiling up from where a spell had landed, created a slight vacuum effect as it sucked nearby books into its core. A series of new flashes then made bookshelves violently explode outwards with noise reverberating around the room as a thunder clap.

One final burst of magic caused Ariana to be blown backwards and knocked off her feet onto the floor, finally stopping her rampaging onslaught.

She laid eagle spread on the floor; skin blackened with soot and ash as the room around her held itself together by a thread. She gave a painful chuckle as the haze on her brain slowly cleared; the unhealthy thoughts that ate away at her mind gradually leaving one at a time.

"I will never be truly happy. I mean... these new people who are my 'parents' are just physical copies of people I once knew. Their love for me could never be replicated," she whispered to herself.

"But for the happiness of others… I will gladly sacrifice my own," she continued as she stared at the ceiling, warmth blossoming in her chest at the thought of saving everyone that was once lost.

She then stood up shakily and mumbled a quick healing spell, of which took care of her minor injuries and the large welt on her left wrist. She casually casted a quick _Tempus_ spell and yelped at the time it showed.

 _I hope that no one is still up at 6:30. It's an hour until breakfast… and I would prefer to shower without disturbances._

Quickly stripping out of her battle gear and back into her pyjamas, she gathered the stuff that she had brought to her training and hastily made for the door, but not before tripping over a book seemed to spring out of nowhere.

Grumbling in annoyance, she picked herself up and grabbed the offending book and made a throwing motion as she prepared to hurl it across the room. Just as she was about to, the title of the book flashed briefly in her line and sight and caused her to gasp loudly.

 _Mastery of Multivariate Parselmagic._

Everything then clicked into place as memories and scenes created an intricate link that seemed to visualize in her cerebral cortex.

"Basilisk venom destroys Horcruxes! How could I have been so stupid to forget that moment in the Chamber of Secrets?" she groaned in vexation, banging her head against a nearby shelf as she realized that all that time when she had been researching on ways to destroy them was all for nothing, as the answer had been under her nose the entire time.

Carefully stowing the prized book away in her heap of clothes of which she had gathered up once more, she then performed a spell that cleared all hints of dark magic from her wand, as well as a Notice-Me-Not charm on herself and left hastily to leave behind a part of her studies no one else, not even Albus, knew about.

As she exited past the doors back into the seventh floor, she passed by the same symbol of the snakes that were coiled around each other etched on the door and could have sworn that the albino snake had its fangs just a little bit deeper into the other.

* * *

A few students dotted the corridors here and there but for the most part Ariana had avoided all contact with other beings on her journey back to the Gryffindor dormitory. She sneaked past everyone in the slightly brighter light of the morning, most of it thanks to her charms that she had placed on herself, and tip-toed back to the girl's dorm.

Peeking in, she breathed a sigh of relief as the other figures were still unmoving and seemingly sound asleep in their beds. She gently pushed the door open and crept through, wincing at the slight creek that was produced from the action as she gathered up her toiletries and robes from her trunk and hastily exited the room to head to the bathroom.

She immediately locked the bathroom after entering it and undressed in front of the large mirror above the sink in a mechanical habit. She unconsciously traced the remnants of scars across her bare chest as her black hair flowed around her, green eyes following fingers that moved across lines that had once defiled her body in more than one manner.

 _This… this is physical proof of my previous life._

 _Proof that Mom and Dad are out there somewhere… hopefully looking down at me._

She raised her hand and gathered her hair to the side of her brow, looking at the much fainter lightning bolt scar that had desecrated her forehead.

 _This however, is the proof of all my pain and sorrows._

All off a sudden, she felt vulnerable and oddly ashamed of the scars on her body as she stood exposed in front of the mirror. Giving a heaving sigh, she turned around and stepped into the shower stall, turning on the knob and letting the hot water pound down on her head to massage all her worries away.

Making sure that her shower was quick, she changed into her robes and quickly grabbed the book on Parselmagic on which she had recently obtained and headed down towards the black lake, where she planned to have a good introductory read while waiting for breakfast to start.

Warm morning air greeted her as the rays of the sun breathed life once more into the world, causing dew on cobwebs and flora to speckle and shine at every angle. Ariana smiled slightly at the pleasing view and headed down to a spot that she had been frequenting for the past few weeks when she was not in her room.

Arriving to the base of a gargantuan oak tree, she plopped herself down on the dry ground in the sun and crossed her legs as she heaved the large book onto her lap and opened it up to the first page in anticipation.

 _Dear Reader, if you are reading this manuscript, then you must possess the noble art of Parseltongue. This tome deals the both the destructive and curative aspects of the ancient language of the serpents. Why multivariate magic you may ask? This is because this unique type of magic is capable of both elements in a single spell. Now to begin…_

Ariana sat utterly spellbound as she devoured the first chapter, its yellowing and fragile pages describing how Parselmagic could seal up and heal grievous wounds with a sinuous wand-like movement, but at the same time some cost of some pain and injury to the caster.

After a few minutes, she looked up and realized that the castle was finally starting to show signs of life in the growing hours of the dawn. She spied a group of excited and intrepid first-years that were on the far end of the black lake that were eager to explore the outskirts of the castle before breakfast began.

She also laid her eyes upon the thickening crowd of older students that pushed and shoved their way past each other through corridors and hallways, all these events signalling that it was time to tear herself away from her new book, making her quell with some effort the irresistible urge to continue reading.

She then stood up, wandlessly muttering a cleaning charm that smoothened out her robes and banished loose dirt and broken twigs off her body. The folded book was carefully and lovingly tucked away into the folds of her robes as she marched up back towards the castle, her stomach rumbling in hunger as her morning training had worked up a voracious appetite.

She entered the lively Great Hall and approached the far end of the breakfast table, ignoring all the bustle and hustle around her as she sat down and poured cereal into a bowl that magically appeared in front of her. Just as she was about to tuck in to the crunch of oatmeal, a familiar voice spoke out behind her.

"Kiddo, you owe me an explanation."

She froze and let go of her spoon, causing it to clatter in her bowl as she whirled around to face the speaker.

James Charlus Potter stood by himself and grinned at her flushed countenance, continuing speaking with his arms folded across his chest. "I didn't see you aboard the Hogwarts Expresses, and I assure you, I had checked every carriage," he mock-interrogated as he raised one eyebrow at the now smirking young girl.

Ariana widened her sparkling eyes and jerked her head towards where Albus was sitting and then pointed in the general direction of her new room in an attempt to elucidate the situation without words.

James looked downwards towards the floor as a memory flooded back, his fists tightening in balls at it flooded his mind.

 _It was late into the night after James and his parents had got back from their shopping spree and their encounter with Dumbledore and his loveable companion. James yawned loudly and turned to the strangely tight faces of his parents._

" _Goodnight everyone, I'm off to a quick shower and bed," James lethargically spoke and he trudged up the stairs to his quarters, acknowledging his parents calls that bid him good night in return._

 _Realizing that he had forgotten some clothes down below, he made his way back down but stopped short in the middle of the staircase as he heard the hush and murmur of whispers emanating from the dining hall._

"… _-lbus has been my close friend for over thirty years; I should know him better than anyone else."_

 _James stilled and crept closer towards the source of these sayings and pressed his ear against the door in slight curiosity._

" _Albus of his own hinted that her family had been killed by Death Eaters or something like that by his mannerisms during lunch today," Charlus muttered to his wife._

"And w _hen I asked whether anything happened to the poor girl herself, his eyes turned black as night and I know even though he didn't say anything… something terrible was done to that innocent child."_

 _As Dorea murmured in agreement, James pulled away from the wall and silently slinked back up to his room with a pale face._

" _How… how could anyone do that to such a person?" James whispered out loud as he remembered her joyful smile and enchanting attitude._

James broke out of his mindscape and raised his eyes the awaiting young girl. "Of course, I-I had forgotten about that…," he stammered, unwittingly alluding that he had knowledge that few should have.

A tilted head and a gentle gaze created a huge burst of protectiveness that inundated his soul, neither of them realizing that they considered the other to be the bravest person they had ever met.

Just as James was about to continue, Ariana spotted Amelia out of the corner of her eye entering with the other Gryffindor first-year girls to have their breakfast.

She blanched and realized that she it was of paramount importance that these two groups would never interact as one knew that she could speak while the other didn't. She silently cursed her rash decision to acquaint herself with her housemates as it made things so much more complicated.

Abandoning her meal even thought she was ravenous, she slowly rose to her feet and placed herself out of the line of sight from the approaching Amelia and was about to bolt but not before a hand descended on her should, causing her to jump slightly from the contact.

Professor McGonagall looked on curiously at the display but not before handing Ariana a slip of paper. "Ariana, this is your timetable for this year. My transfiguration class is first up this morning so I suggest a good breakfast would be in order," she gently suggested as she had noticed the uneaten bowl of food still on the table.

Ariana knew now was the perfect opportunity as James had started conversing with a much sterner Minerva as Amelia started closing in onto her location.

She started moving and begun to sidestep around the flow of students while evading all line of sights as she exited through the high wooden doors. She breathed a huge sigh of relief after turning a few corners as she leaned against the wall of a slightly empty corridor and decided that a trip to the kitchens would be the best course of action now breakfast was compromised.

 _Is it going to be like this every day?..._

She shook her head wearily and set off to find her favourite house-elf in the kitchens, hoping that there would enough cream puffs to lift up her mood.

* * *

The hours ticked by and Ariana soon made her way to Professor McGonagall's class to learn basic and mundane spells and charms for the second time in her life. She entered and noticed that it was almost time for the lesson as most of the paired desks were full.

Opting to sit at the back of the class to avoid attention, she strode over to a desk to where a young boy donned with the robes that represented Ravenclaw was sitting patiently by himself for the transfiguration teacher to arrive.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Ariana politely asked with a tilted head when she reached him and caught his attention.

"N-not at all," the Ravenclaw boy stammered as his complexion took on a light shade red.

Ariana raised an eyebrow in curiosity at the peculiar mannerism and sat herself down beside him. Deciding to at least introduce herself, she turned back to him and continued on, "Hello, my name is Ariana Peverell. May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?" she asked in a refined manner, extending her petite hand forwards.

The boy's face was now fully flushed as he took her hand in his to shake, "H-hey, I'm Elias Goldstein," he replied, seemingly unable to look her straight in the eyes during their conversation.

Ariana frowned internally and wondered what she was doing wrong to illicit such a strange reaction from him. She was about to ask whether everything was alright but not before McGonagall burst through the doors, the banging noise making the excitedly chattering students turn their heads towards the noise and cease their talking abruptly.

Ariana tuned everything out in slight exasperation and boredom as the elementary laws of transfiguration were explained to the class by the stern-lipped Professor. Her mind was soon adrift in daydreams as she thought of only one thing recently – how to duel a user of dark magic and win.

She knew the pathetic spells casted by most people on the side of justice only consisted stunning and binding spells. To her, this was simply not enough; a simple shield charm could deflect all of said spells. No… she needed to be much stronger and versatile than the Aurors and the other members of the Order in her previous life.

She bitterly realized that the reason why the light side was always losing in the future was the fact that they did not dare to use dark or grey magic for fear of being branded as a dark magic user. Her ruminations were interrupted when she heard a strict voice call out her name, causing her to start slightly.

"Miss Peverell, is my class boring you that much? In that case, please demonstrate how to transfigure your match into a needle," Professor McGonagall called out, slight disappointment veiling her voice.

Ariana refocused her eyes and looked down at her table, and true enough, someone had placed a matchstick on her desk in front of her while she was lost in thought.

With the every eye in the room looking at her, she raised her black wand and lazily flicked it as she channelled all the boredom that she had been afflicted with. The wooden match shimmered and glowed white for a brief second, only to then change perfectly into a shiny needle.

Minerva nodded in approval and smiled at the expert display of magic from the young prodigy. She had already seen Ariana casting slightly advanced magic during her stay in Hogwarts and assumed that Albus had taken her under his wing.

"Perfectly done, now I think it will benefit the class more if you assisted those which need help with the wand movements," she instructed as she turned her attention back to a struggling Gryffindor first-year.

Ariana forced a smile onto her face and she got up reluctantly, only to realise that Elias beside her, who was also capable of completing Professor McGonagall's task, had been trying to show off and garner her attention the entire time.

Too annoyed to care, she spent the rest of the lesson strolling around the room offering tips and strings of advice to the students which needed help. After the lesson ended she slinked out of the room and decided to spend all her free time in the restricted part of the library, a boon that was provided by Albus to access the books she needed.

As she stayed in the shadows, she spotted Amelia and the rest of her housemates emerging from a doorway nearby and overheard their loud conversation.

"Did you see the looks she gave us? It was like we weren't worth her time or something. A right princess that one is," a brown haired girl snorted.

As most of the group agreeing in a similar fashion, Amelia immediately jumped to the particular subject's defence, "I'm sure she did not mean that. Ariana has a very kind and gentle soul," she protested as she tried to quell the unrest.

Ariana decided that she had heard enough and slipped away, memories flooding back of her very early encounters with Hermione and Ron.

Although she was used to people bickering and gossiping behind her back, she felt slightly hurt and decided that she would have to act a little more interested in the eyes of other students and professor to not attract any more attention.

The rest of the day dragged by, as she put on a constant act of rapt attention and interest throughout all the other classes. Thoroughly exhausted by end of her final class for the day, she made straight for one place to solve the one problem crucial immediately.

She leapt up the winding staircase after the gargoyle had let her through to Albus's office and burst through the doors without knocking once she reached the door.

Ariana's foul mood dissipated as she grinned madly at the startled and curious look at an old and wizened man sitting at his desk produced, her eyes glinting with the promise of a hunt.

"Albus, tonight we hunt basilisk."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 11**

 _A night later_

Ariana readjusted the straps on her dragon-hide armour across her chest for the tenth time that night, dainty white fingers weaving in and out of the frayed and rough material in nervousness. She had recently come into a complete set of size-adjusting dragon armour while exploring the hidden depths of the Room of Requirement one night, and planned to use them to their full potential.

The leather cuirass she donned fit her body perfectly as ochre and midnight black threads interlaced into and out of one another along the curves of her torso, each one in a more curious pattern than the next. To complement that, a seemingly ancient pair of amber leather gauntlets was on the hands the same young girl, each one with a hidden history of bloodshed and war.

To the neophytic eye, these looked like discarded pieces of history, but the truth lay deeper as the old artefacts still thrummed with unseen power, capable of withstanding the most grievous of physical and magical assaults.

Ariana glanced to her side to look at her silent companion, an individual with a hard face and worry etched into both the irises.

"You ready?" she whispered, the noise softly echoing around the room.

Her ally gave a start and stared at her with piercing eyes. "Are you sure about this? All you need to do is open the door, and I can do the rest whi-..," her ally whispered back in a low voice, full of undisguised worry.

Ariana interrupted the speech with a low growl, noting internally that this was the fourth time she was hearing this.

"Albus, for the last time, I am seventeen… not ten," she murmured strongly with passion as she faced away from him to look at the surroundings.

"I have already faced this beast once before."

It truly was a dismal looking place in the night, Moaning Myrtles bathroom. A single sliver of moonlight that penetrated through the only window was the only source of illumination in the bathroom. Dirty and unused sinks and toilets that called this place home were yellowed and rusted from a lack of care.

Given the history of the place, it was a truly sombre tone for a sombre place.

It was around one in the morning when Ariana and Albus sneaked out to rendezvous, after a long and thought out plan on how to tackle the upcoming trial.

Albus, who still wearing his day robes, gave a deep sigh and pinched the top of his brow in exasperation. After some silent contemplation, he turned to face the stubborn girl who was crossing her arms in defiance.

"Very well," he acquiesced wearily.

"But if anything goes wrong with the plan, Fawkes will instantly transport you to safety, is that clear?" Albus continued strongly, with a voice that carried hints of emotion that Ariana could not decipher.

She slowly nodded back at the one person she could trust fully in this world. Clutching her yew wand tightly in her fist, they both then turned their attention back to the sink in front of them to the accursed entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

She then stared unblinkingly at the only sink in the bathroom that was engraved with a symbol of the snake on the tap and strained her mind, feeling something deep down stir restlessly within her.

" _Open."_

The harsh use of Parseltongue made Albus jump slightly, the unfamiliar sounds grating on his old heart as the sinks separated to reveal a black and forbidding hole in the floor. Albus recovered quickly and walked towards the gaping cavity, starting to stroke his long white beard thoughtfully.

"Fascinating… truly fascinating, the countless secrets that Hogwarts still possesses," he murmured as he started to bounce on the spot in excitement, his glasses bouncing on his face as he got into a jig.

The sound of a cleared throat broke his wonder and dance, causing him to look up and be greeted by the face of an amused girl with an eyebrow raised in curiousness at the sight.

Albus coughed sheepishly and readjusted his glasses, "Well, we have no time to waste do we?" he exclaimed brightly as he picked up two sentient objects up off the floor, which gave strong protests, and leaped down the hole without pause or a look back.

Ariana covered her face with her palm when she heard a faint whoop from Albus as he was sliding down the pipe, alongside the offended squawk of a rooster and the disgruntled cries of the sorting hat.

She took in a deep breath and looked at her hands as she stood alone in the murky bathroom, alone for all the world could care, as she prepared to jump down to join Albus.

"Would you look at that, my hands are actually trembling," she muttered to herself, an unnatural chill descending down her spine.

 _Ginny killed all the roosters in Hogwarts when she was possessed back in my second year. This time however, we have one. Even the sorting hat was brought for safety measures._

Ariana shook her head and banished all dismal thoughts out of her mind and leaped off the edge into the abyss with one final thought flooding her brain.

 _The cry of the rooster should kill the basilisk instantly. It should be easier this time … right?_

* * *

The first time Ariana slid down this slide with Ron, she was screaming bloody murder from the sheer terror of the unknown. This time however, unlike Albus, who rode down with glee, she hurtled down in complete silence, every muscle tense, every sense heightened as she spiraled downwards on cold and slippery stone.

She made a noise in protest as she reached the bottom, colliding into something soft. She glanced up and realized that Albus has been waiting for her below with outstretched arms and was currently holding her up under her arms to avoid a fall on the sharp and jagged bones that littered the floor in abundance.

As Albus gently put her down, she knelt down and curiously studied the bones that she breezed past the first time she was here. Metacarpals, fibulas, phalanges and more were strewed around the place in a haphazard manner, each one telling a story different from the last, dictated by the scars that lay permanently etched upon them. She bent down and grabbed the nearest one and managed to prop it up with some effort.

The bone was clearly that of a large individual. It was a femur with the indentation of a large bite mark on it, and judging by the ball and socket joint at one end, it was roughly three feet and seven inches in length. That would make this individual most undoubtedly a half-giant or a young giant.

Ariana shivered as she let go of the bone, thinking of Hagrid's half-brother Grawp, who she met briefly in her fifth year. With gravity as its guide, the large bone fell back onto the remnants of what were once sentient creatures with a muted clatter, the still air deadening the propagation of the sound.

Albus waited patiently for Ariana to return to the task at hand, his countenance losing all traces of humour when the said girl finally turned towards him, a grim face returning his look in response.

"Let's begin," he instructed briskly as he began to clear some of the bones around them with his wand to expose the damp and spoiled blackened earth beneath them, an amalgamation of grime and clay that was discoloured by bodily fluids, blood and shattered bones.

"Exactly how I taught you, make sure not a single wand movement is off," Albus cautioned, stowing away his wand with haste back to from the deep folds of his majestic robes that had layers that seemingly never ended.

Ariana said nothing and clenched her wand tightly in her petite fist, gritting her teeth in preparation for the uncomfortable and unnerving experience this particular ritual gave rise to.

Albus strode with purpose away from the little circle of free earth he created and placed himself behind Ariana, positioning his warm wizened hands on her thin shoulders.

"Ariana, I will catch you when you fall," he assured with gentle calmness, his sky blue fixated past her onto the door on the other side of the dark and foreboding cavern.

It was akin to the high-security doors in Gringotts except that seven silvery snakes decorated it in a fan-like manner at an oblique angle, all of them pointing outwards from a florid albeit rusty hinge. The large snake skin that lay in-between both the subjects did not shock Albus as Ariana had warned him about it beforehand, but the sheer monstrosity of the size gave even the great Albus Dumbledore pause.

Ariana steadied her breath and pointed towards the clear patch of earth and began chanting words of power that strained her entire body with each passing word that passed through her red lips. With an upwards flourish, she began to wave her wand in a highly intricate motion, tracing out red and brown runes in the foul air.

After a minute of unblinking focus, she let out a gasp and fell backwards into Albus' waiting arms in unconsciousness, flopping like a marionette whose strings were just suddenly severed.

Albus looked proudly down at her drained face, her sallow complexion, and the large black bags under her eyes from the magical exhaustion.

"Well done my child, what you did – not many children your age could replicate… probably not even myself," he extolled softly with a full heart as he sat down cross-legged on the bones, not caring about the discomfort as he gently shifted her limp body onto his soft purple robe.

He waited for a couple of seconds and then glanced up towards the patch of cleared earth that lay before him and watched a lumpy shape slowly arise out of the ground, its brown exterior shimmering as it slowly morphed into a distinct humanoid shape.

The figure finally transformed into the recognizable shape of the young girl he was so dearly fond of, and gave a slight chuckle at the hacking cough it gave as it spat out some mud out of its earthen mouth. This was a ritual that was privy to few amongst the elders in the Wizarding community, to temporarily transfer your consciousness to a golem as your body remained safe and intact.

Ariana's coughing subsided as she looked down at her new form. It was a carbon copy of her original self, even down to the very last stray thread on her clothes, save being brown and entirely made of the filthy earth that lay down in the chamber.

She raised her hands and watched as the runs of mud in the hard creases of her hands coursed like mini-rivers on their way to her wrists. After examining her entire body and was satisfied with the results, she looked towards her own sleeping body as Albus protectively cradled it, akin to the way a mother wolf will shield her cub from a raging storm.

"Albus, I am going now," she croaked, the voice parched and scratchy from the lack of moisture in her current form.

Ariana picked up the sorting hat in one hand and the caged rooster that was magically silenced in the other. She felt them both shimmer and disappear from existence even though she could still feel them and looked over to Albus to nod in thanks for the powerful disillusionment spells.

Albus looked at her over his glasses at her seriously for a second.

"Remember, you can only return to your body if your golem is destroyed entirely or if ten minutes pass," he urgently reminded.

Ariana nodded again and turned away and walked stiffly towards the door that blocked their path. Once more she used the ophidian language that only direct bloodlines could inherit… save her.

" _Open."_

The snakes on the entrance suddenly sprung to life, their metal forms creaking and groaning as they slowly unlocked the door. A hiss of cool fresh air hit her face as the door sprung open. She rigidly walked through the door into the main chamber and climbed down a short ladder, hearing the door clang shut behind her.

As she shambled down the long path in the grotto, she spied pale stalactites full of limestone that hung ominously on the ceiling. Turning her head left and right, she was assaulted with memories of the past as both sides of her were dotted with large grey statues of snakes with their fangs bared, interspersed by numerous passageways.

She reached the end of the hall and gazed solemnly upon the exact spot where Ginny had once lain, a love interest that was all but lost now in this new world of hers.

Ariana then peered up at the colossal statue of a fierce head, and then towards the opening at its mouth, where a beast lay dormant until summoned with the right phrase.

Not wanting to waste precious time, she raised her raised her right arm as best she could and chanted the same phrase Tom Riddle had used once before, a long time ago.

" _Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!_ "

A low rumbling echoed through the cavern as the mouth of the statue slowly lowered to the floor, revealing an entrance that was so unnaturally black, that the dim light itself seemed to bend away from that particular spot.

"The gaze can't harm me in this form, so there is no reason to be afraid," Ariana murmured to herself in reassurance as she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

A low hiss caused her to snap her head up in attention as she watched as a colossal snake around 40 feet long emerge from its lair and rear up using its powerful body in a sinusoidal manner to study the tiny creature before it. It was only slightly smaller than the last time she saw it.

It was a hideous creature by all standards. Green and grey scales overlapped each other in a grotesque fashion as spiked protuberances on top of its head resembled a thorny crown. The thing which stood out the most was the face. A twisted face which housed long, sharp yellow fangs that promised utter annihilation on whatever they came down upon.

The basilisk cocked its head to one side and narrowed its black eyes, sniffing the air before addressing the waiting creature.

" _You are not my master, yet you speak the Ancient Tongue and know the incantation to summon me,"_ it hissed in in confusion, its body twisting and rippling as it spoke.

Ariana said nothing but stood completely still where she was with mouth clamped shut, the hidden weapons ready in both hands to strike at the perfect moment.

The basilisk ignored her silence and brought its body closer to the ground, sliding lower across the floor towards her in curiosity.

" _I smell traces of him on you, are you one of his brood?"_

As the beast was slithering closer and closer, Ariana readied her items with a tightened grip, earthen breaths quickening in anticipation.

When the gargantuan snake was about ten feet away from her, she finally broke into action.

 _Now._

She dispelled the disillusion charms and the silencing charms off the caged rooster and brandished it towards the basilisk with ferocious intensity using her left hand.

" _Your death will save millions,"_ Ariana hissed in triumph as the crows of the magically amplified rooster resonated around the cave, causing small amounts of debris to rain down through widening cracks on the ceiling.

She expected the basilisk to curl up into its death throes the second it heard the sound, however, it seemed to just create indiscernible noises that resembled the harsh grinding of stone against stone which chilled her to the bone.

It was… laughing?

" _Little creature, did you expect my master to not prepare for such a trivial matter?"_ It hissed in glee, rearing up and opening its mouth to display a terrifying row of fangs, its ears safely guarded by layers upon layers of dark magic.

Ariana widened her eyes in horror and quickly fumbled with her right hand in an attempt to draw out the Sword of Gryffindor through the hat. But not fast enough, as last thing she saw before the beast lunged at her were the desolate black pits of its throat.

* * *

Ariana's body sudden jerked up and heaved as she took frantic gulps of air to her own fleshy lungs once more, her golem form completely destroyed by the sheer strength of the basilisk in a single strike.

The panicked look on her face was enough to signify to Albus that something had gone wrong.

"Albus, it's immune to the cry of a rooster," she gasped as she struggled to maintain her breathing, grasping onto the front of his robes, "It's still in the castle, we need to cut off the exits points before it escapes."

Albus quickly pulled her to her feet and bellowed as loud as possible.

"FAWKES!"

The majestic phoenix appeared in a blinding flash of fire and perched on Albus' outstretched arm.

"Time is of the essence. Apart from this basilisk, I know of no other in the wild. It will not escape," he promised with a determined face. As he mentally gave Fawkes the locations of the pipes he needed to be teleported to, he turned back to Ariana with slight fear etched in his face.

"If the small chance that beast comes up here… if it is truly your last hope… use your necklace to escape," he faintly instructed, avoiding eye contact with her.

Before Ariana could react, he vanished alongside Fawkes in a burst of flame, the floating embers of feathers floating to the ground like flakes of snow, showering onto everything.

She reached for her neck and gently traced the outline of her pendant that was given to her as a safeguard with her index finger as she mused internally.

 _Why is he so deathly afraid of this necklace? Isn't meant to take me somewhere safe?_

She held it up against a ray of light that shone into room, watching the light reflecting of it in a multitude of angles as she twisted it around in the air, theorizing on places of where it led to.

Before she knew it, Albus had appeared beside her again in a flash, but this time it was accompanied by the the feeble cry of an animal, the strangled cries of a dying phoenix.

"Albus, what happened?" Ariana yelped as she frantically knelt down beside the fiery bird that was writhing on the floor of bones, stowing her necklace back under her armour.

Albus ignored her and watched patiently as the thrashing phoenix finally burst into flames and gradually vanish from sight into a pile of ash. He then gently scooped out the chick that was reborn out of the glowing ash and deposited it slowly within the magically expanded pockets of his robes.

Only then did he turn back to the waiting girl, and gave a sigh before talking.

"We encountered the basilisk on the very last pipe we had to seal up. Although Fawkes was bitten, he managed to scratch out one eye while he bought me enough time to block off the final exit," Albus summarised as stood up, brushing off ash from his robes.

"Now, you climb back up while I finis-"

Ariana clicked her tongue in annoyance, furrowing her eyebrows as she interrupted him.

"Do you really have that little faith in me Albus?" she snapped as she crossed her arms, daring him to argue. "There are certain areas that require Parseltongue to access, and I know how the basilisk moves in combat since I have fought it before."

Albus remained silent for a second and then gave a small smile as he looked into shining green eyes that shone with unadulterated emotion.

"You certainly have your father's spirit and your mother's cleverness," he murmured to himself, lost for a moment in his memories of James and Lily's escapades during the last five years.

His visage then hardened and pulled out the Elder Wand with a flourish from his robes and motioned to Ariana to do the same with hers.

"Very well, but stay close to me. I have a plan," he commanded in a no-nonsense tone.

As they headed once more into lair of the wounded beast that was seeking vengeance, they both knew that it was the key to defeating its master for good, and there was no turning back this time.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the hiatus! Will be resuming updates again! Thank you all for your support:)


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 12**

Darkness is an odd thing. This mystical material is able to pass through solid material with ease, coat entire surfaces, and eat away thought like acid. It can quickly infect, harshly penetrate, and voraciously suffocate.

Ariana could have sworn she was experiencing all of it at once.

With her right hand clasping tightly onto her wand, she fidgeted in unease, biting her lip in nervousness as the cool darkness clung to her pale skin like wet paper.

"Albus, why is the Chamber so dark… is this your doing?" she whispered into the blackness, her voice so quiet that if were a mere decibel lower, it would of been rendered inaudible to human ears.

Albus, thankfully, was something more than a human with his decades of exposure to magic and perked up in response to her voice in the engulfing void.

With a flick of his wrist, four glass orbs flew out of his robes and levitated in the air, each one pulsating with white glowing light as they reached their zenith, each one magical in nature as they started circling around in a perfect orbit above them that even the celestial bodies would surely envy.

"It is safe to communicate now," Albus cheerfully informed as his face came into view, his demeanour a jarring juxtaposition against the frightening sight the light sources were illuminating. The image of large grey statues of snakes and corridors indicating that they were in the dead centre of the Chamber of Secrets.

"To your initial question, the answer is yes. It is because I have made sure every exit of every kind has been sealed," he continued as he held his wand up in a battle stance and tensed his muscles, the shadows dancing and flickering around him.

Ariana's palms clenched tighter as blood roared in her ears, the adrenaline coursing through her system shutting down her ability to think logically.

"Professor… w-why are we just standing in the open like this?" she faintly stuttered, her heart pounding as she begun to imagine shapes of all sorts appearing on the cracked and greying bricks in the creeping shadows.

Albus did not take his electrifying blue eyes off the impenetrable darkness for one second as they roved the cavern in search for their deadly opponent.

"Reach out with your hand," he laconically answered, too busy focusing intensely on something unknown to Ariana.

She tentatively stretched her left hand out to the air in front of her, only to stop short as her clammy hand brushed something invisible and extremely solid.

Her old self would have been shocked and confused by such bizarre magic, but in this form and in this world, she only felt a gnawing spark of curiously as she felt this new magic guide her finger, tracing the outline of the invisible runes that hung in the air like wisps of the past.

"As long as I am infusing my magic into the walls that surrounds us, the basilisk cannot break through," Albus informed as he glanced at Ariana briefly, noticing proudly that the young girl had fully traced out the complex rune in the air with her finger.

Ariana's eyes suddenly widened as turned her face back towards Albus, remembering crucial information that he just told her a while back.

"T-The basilisk still has one functioning eye, it can easily see us," she spluttered as she jerked her wand up into a fighting position, her heart rate accelerating at a tremendous speed as the silver band around her left wrist begun burning her skin for the first time since she was down here.

"Ariana, keep your focus," Albus barked, small beads of sweat forming on his brow as he channelled more magic into strengthening the transparent walls.

"This unique fusion of spell and ritual only allows the people inside to see out of the wall, whereas anyone outside of it will only see an opaque silver wall," he continued in a milder voice, noting with slight relief that the panicked girl had somewhat calming down after his explanation.

Albus immediately felt a small tugging on his magic to his left and he knew that this was the only opportunity to give Ariana the key information she needed before the creature arrived.

"Listen closely; since I have no time to undo the anti-apparition wards, we only have one shot at this," he hurriedly spoke, "We will need to take our opponent out at the exact same time when I drop the walls."

"The basilisk's eyesight is highly sensitive, so I need you to temporarily blind it when I give the order... is that clear?" he commanded, more sweat appearing on his forehead as he faced towards the direction of the magical strain on his invisible barrier from the approaching basilisk.

Before Ariana could respond, a belligerent hiss filled the air from a darkened corner of the cave, cutting off her train of thought and sending shivers up her spine from the unnaturalness.

" _I can smell you, abomination."_

The cogs and wheels in Ariana's mind started whirring as she knew it was her unspoken job to lure the beast to their position. She steadied her breath and sibilantly replied in the same tongue.

" _You would call the most powerful wizard in the world an abomination? Even for a basilisk you-…"_

" _I was talking about you, most unclean one,"_ the basilisk interrupted in a hiss of anger, the faint outline its body thrashing and writhing in rage and pain in the darkness, causing small amounts of debris to rain from ceiling around them from the action.

Ariana wearily pressed her left hand against her forehead and rubbed her eyes, thinking back to the many times when beasts and objects of substantial power had been so infuriatingly cryptic about her.

 _Bloody fate. I bet this has something to do with that._

Her eyes hardened as she knew time was of the essence in this precarious position they were in. She raised her wand at the ready for the inevitable as anticipation tingled through her body like electrical sparks.

" _Deformed worm, how is your sight with only one eye?"_ she goaded as her mocking laughter filled the foul air, _"After we leave here, we will destroy your master befo-,"_

She never got to finish her sentence as a blood-curdling mix between a scream and hiss resonated throughout the cave. The basilisk lunged toward the barrier out from the darkness, launching itself forward in a crazed frenzy, causing her to jump in shock as its open mouth smashed against the invisible walls with a sickening crunch.

Albus let out a grunt as he poured as much magic as he could into the only thing separating them from the creature, the unseen walls withholding both the physical aspect of the attack as well as the magical aspect from the continuous gaze the basilisk held.

The unhinged basilisk reeled back in absolute agony as several chipped fangs scattered to the floor from its bloody mouth, causing small puddles of viscid venom to pool on the ground. As it reared up and was prepared to madly charge at them again, Albus knew it was the perfect moment.

"Ariana, NOW!" Dumbledore roared as he felt strength returning his body, the Elder Wand energizing him and flooding him with an overabundance of magic.

Closing her eyes and remembering the lessons that Albus had once taught her, she waited until she could no longer feel the presence of the magically conjured walls and then thrust her arm upwards in the direction of the basilisk, with her eyes still fastened shut.

" _LUMOS MAXIMA!"_ She fiercely cried, pouring as much power as she could into the spell.

A pained hiss filled the air as the giant serpent jerked its hideous head back from the sudden burst of light that lit up the entire chamber up in a brilliant flare of magic.

Albus was already chanting in Latin as this event was happening, his murmured breath growing increasingly laboured as the tip of his wand glowed brighter with each subsequent word.

When the last word was finally uttered in the evocation, the entire chamber instantly vibrated with so much power that it caused Ariana to drop to her knees and gasp in pleasure as she was overwhelmed with wave after wave of intoxicating magic.

A ghostly golden phoenix that closely resembled a Patronus burst out from the Elder Wand and flew high into the air and begun circling around the cavern, giving out mournful trills that made Ariana tremble in fear and wonder at the same time.

As it passed over the basilisk, it glanced at Albus for a brief second before it angled downwards and dive-bombed straight into the monstrous face of the massive snake. With a high pitched hiss, the basilisk fell to the floor in agony as the wraithlike phoenix rammed itself through its eyes and begun destroying it from the inside.

After what seemed like a lifetime to Ariana, the sound of claws scraping, monsters baying, sinew tearing, and gurgling whimpers gradually diminished and came to an end, the only thing left to be heard in the chamber was laboured breathing. She was still kneeling down on the floor with her eyes closed on the same spot, completely trusting Albus with her life.

"It… is… safe to open your eyes," a winded voice behind her panted.

Slowly peering out from under her eyelids, she was instantly greeted with the full sight of the beast's face, with its forked tongue hanging out and its vacant eyes still smouldering.

Yelping in surprise, she scrambled up and backpedaled as fast as she could, tripping over her feet only to land into the steady and prepared arms of Albus.

"Steady now, steady now my dear… it is over," he soothed, as he supported her back.

As Ariana slowly turned around and looked back up at him with wide green eyes, he smiled proudly and put a warm hand on top of her head.

"I knew you wouldn't fail."

Ariana slowly blinked, her brain still not fully registering was what happening at the moment as she continued to stare blankly at Albus.

Then, like the golden rays of the sun finally peeking out from behind a grey cloud, she broke into the most radiant smile. The deep curve on her lips making the world stop around Albus for brief moment as a million memories thundered past his eyes in a split second.

Without warning or any kind of indication, he suddenly picked her up by the waist and spun her around in the air in joy. Surprised at the unexpected action, Ariana couldn't help but laugh in happiness at this action, emotions soaring as she was flew through the air.

To an observer, the twirling duo alongside the slain beast would have beheld a most curious sight.

A long-forgotten feeling that she had experienced only once before grew and blossomed in her chest like a blazing wildfire. Her chest tightened as she realized it was similar to when she had first met her parents after she died.

This precious feeling… this feeling of being wanted…

…she didn't want it to stop.

* * *

Ariana's heart was still light as a feather long after they had cleared up the mess and had healed up their minor scrapes and burns. Noticing that Albus was on the verge of finishing the extraction of the fangs from dead serpent, she skipped over to him, her feet unconsciously creating little hops that caused strands of jet black hair to frame her face with each bounce.

She pushed stray hair out of her face when she drew closer, grinning with amusement as she watched her dear companion whistle a carelessly happy tune as he was prying off the dangerous venom-filled fangs, stuffing them into a magically expanded leather bag with an almost carefree attitude.

 _Oh Albus, you really are something else._

She waited patiently with her hands clasped her back for him to finish, and as soon as the last fang was safely procured and stowed away, she fired off a bottled question with haste.

"Albus, what spell did you use to defeat the basilisk?" she breathlessly asked.

Albus tucked the small brown bag securely in his robes before getting up to address her, casually brushing off loose soil and dirt from his majestic purple robes with the back of his hands as he stood up.

"It is… a variant of the Patronus spell, which I am sure you are familiar with," he evasively replied, his eyes shifting to the side as he stowed his Elder Wand away in his robes and begun walking back to the entrance of the chamber in an attempt to end the conversation.

Ariana immediately ran in front of him, blocking his way as her outstretched arms, "Albus, please… I need to know what spell was that," she begged, her beseeching eyes causing him to falter for a second.

Albus raised an eyebrow in curiously at the intensity of the plea.

"My dear, why do you need to know that badly?"

Ariana's eyes immediately looked at everywhere but Albus as her cheeks reddened slightly, her feet shuffling together as she hesitated before replying.

"The spell just now it… i-it made me feel… good," she finally stammered out, her face flushing crimson with embarrassment.

Albus' eyes widened for a fraction before giving an equally embarrassed cough. He adjusted his glasses with his right hand before lecturing the red-faced girl, shrugging off the awkwardness with a straight face.

"You've heard of magic users being seduced by dark spells, have you not?" Albus began as he shifted back into his pedagogic roots, "Those which are completely attuned to the dark can feel physical… effects when powerful dark spells are cast by them or others in their vicinity."

"Although it is significantly harder for people to be attuned to the light, when it happens, it has the same effect as being on the other extreme end of the spectrum," he elucidated.

"In your case, it is most decidedly obvious that you are strongly attuned to the light... quite a rare feat to achieve by someone so young," Albus concluded as he peered at her from the top of his glasses in approval.

"Though not at all surprising, since Fawkes is quite smitten with you," he also pointed out, gently patting a spot on his robe near his hip where the said phoenix chick lay safe within.

Ariana bit her lip in thought as her embarrassment and awkwardness disappeared, giving way to growing curiosity as the flow of questions only increased and never ended in her newfound pursuit of knowledge.

"I wonder then… how common is it for a wizard or witch to be attuned strongly to both light _and_ dark?" she pondered out loud, speaking to both herself and Albus.

Albus gave a start and looked at her, "Good heavens, a most interesting question indeed," he replied with a small amount surprise. He then shook his head in a negative.

"Is it only possible to be attuned to one side or the other… I have never come across a case otherwise."

Ariana's brow furrowed as she recalled the times where she trained in secret with dark spells in the Room of Requirements. If her memories served right, she could have sworn something felt funny tingling when she was experimenting with more powerful and darker spells.

 _Was I imagining it? I wonder if…_

Albus waited patiently as the precocious young girl in front of him hummed and hawed with eyes glazed over as she ignored everything around her, blissfully lost in her own world.

Albus' soft voice broke her out of her churning whirlpool of thoughts.

"Ariana, ready to go?"

Ariana gave a gigantic yawn and nodded sleepily in return as her eyes began to drift shut, every muscle in her body aching from magical stresses. Albus put a gentle hand on her teetering shoulder and began steering her out from the now uninhabited chamber as he too felt the fatigues of battle set in.

So glad was he that he managed to divert Ariana's attention away from her initial question that he had failed to look upwards, his eyes blind towards events that will undoubtedly shape the coming future.

A dark and gaping hole laid silently scarred into the ceiling, created by the magic used during the battle with the basilisk. Its genesis was not from Albus' vast wells of magic however, but from an innocuous spell that by all definitions should not have created that hole... a spell that had the ability to produce a short burst of light.

* * *

The next day progressed slowly as Ariana partook in her elementary-level classes, her countenance constantly in a complete façade as she strained to behave like a normal student… like a normal young girl – everything that she was not.

Her stress promptly lessened as she peeked into the hospital wing late into the evening after all classes had ended, desperate to catch up with Madam Pomfrey and unwind. Glancing about, she tip-toed in as quiet as a Kneazle as she soundlessly entered through the wooden doors into the dark room that was filled with empty beds.

Ariana spied the back of her favourite mediwitch at the far end of the room, hunched over and scribbling noisily with a quill on a piece of parchment as numerous other medical reports lay ready and next to a single candle that gave her light.

She stifled a giggle and crept closer, inching her way closer she prepared to pounce onto the busily working woman. Just as she was closing in for the attack, a motherly voice suddenly filled the air.

"Hello my dear, not injured this time I hope?"

Reminded about the fact that the entrance of the hospital wing was charmed to detect who entered or exited, Ariana laughed gaily and ran into the arms of Poppy when she turned around in her chair, both of them feeling a sense of connection they couldn't shake off.

Poppy's look then sobered slightly after she detached from the hug to study the beaming young girl in front of her.

"Is it almost that time of the month already?"

 _Don't get embarrassed. Don't get embarrassed. Don't get-…_

Too late as Ariana's pretty face flushed red as she nodded in response. Even after spending a few weeks as a girl, it was still difficult to mentally and physically transition after being a boy for the past seventeen years.

 _This is my body now; don't be uncomfortable with it you idiot._ Ariana internally thought to herself as she closed her eyes and forcefully pressed both her palms against the sides of her head in exasperation, as if to force the thoughts out of the flesh and into the soul.

Poppy waited patiently for the expressive young girl to calm down and lower her hands, thoroughly used to her mercurial, albeit adorable, idiosyncrasies.

"Professor Slughorn has just invented new way to combat your monthly… aliment," she quietly disclosed, getting straight to the point as she waved her wand in the air, causing a wall of white charmed curtains to close in around them to ensure patient confidentiality stayed intact.

Ariana sucked in her sharp breath as her eyes lit up from the new information.

"That's fantastic," she murmured to herself delight.

"I already owe him so much from his help from before," she continued in an undertone, subconsciously tracing the scars on her body with her finger on the outside of her robe.

Poppy's face grew icy and her eyes blazed for a split second before she managed to quash her emotions.

She put a warm and sympathetic hand on Ariana's shoulder and squeezed.

"Don't worry child, they are still trying their hardest to find out who was behind this," she reassured gently.

Every muscle in Ariana's body froze instantly as her eyes immediately locked onto Poppy's in an undecipherable stare.

"Who is… _they_?" Ariana asked in a calculating voice, her outward demeanour completely shifting into a relaxed stance while her brain was realizing something was amiss and was churning out theories and hypotheses at a frightening speed.

 _Surely Albus would have told me something about this._

Poppy frowned for a brief second at the weird change in behaviour her young charge exhibited before answering.

"I guess I should of you told earlier, but there was no need to bring the topic up again so soon," she began as stood up and began to fluff the soft pillows of the empty bed beside them, the opaque curtains still standing guard around them.

"Most of these spells found on you were entirely new to our existing spellbase. Naturally, this information did not remain hidden for long as certain… members in the Ministry took notice of this," Poppy divulged, shaking her head in disgust at the lack of medical ethics in the Wizarding world.

She did not notice the look of growing horror on Ariana's face as she continued, "I don't know specifics but I've heard rumours that the Department of Mysteries is particularly interested in some of the spells."

Ariana looked down to the floor numbly as she forgot that the mediwitch had help from St. Mungo's while she was convalescing on the first week she was here.

"Why… why will they be interested in just one or two new spells?" she weakly asked in desperation as she looked up at Poppy, "Isn't spell creation popular nowadays?"

Poppy looked away and stared out the window as her mind raced through her memories of the sleepless nights she had trying to remove the countless curses and jinxes that the world had not seen the like of before.

"Ariana," she quietly replied, her voice resembling the sound of a muted bell that was chiming far away into the distance.

"It was not just one or two spells."

The air hung silent and thick between them, with each witch trying to rein in their emotions. Through the stillness, a small whimper and the soft sound of burning skin made Poppy realize all she was doing at the moment was terrifying the poor girl.

She immediately knelt down in front of trembling adolescent and enveloped her in a warm hug, rubbing small circles on her back as she whispered apologies for bringing back up the topic of her recent past, mistakenly thinking that was the cause of her distress.

In truth, Ariana was utterly terrified of Ministry intervention, knowing the extensive political and fiscal influence it possessed, and the cruel willingness it wielded. The nepotic and mutualistic nature of the internal hierarchy in the Ministry meant only that connectedness and favours were of any power there.

 _I have been a plaything of the Ministry ever since I stepped into the Wizarding world._

 _Spell and words alone can't help me with this fight… this I have learned._

The mist on Ariana's eyes lessened as she remembered that she not alone in the fight, this battle… this war.

 _Albus… Albus can fix this._

Her body eventually stopped quivering and her breath grew steady as she calmed down, banishing all gloomy thoughts from her mind. Cursing her lack of control over her unstable emotions, she drifted off into a reverie as she readily leaned into Poppy's shoulder, relishing in the warmness of the hug.

Realizing after a moment that Ariana had finally calmed down, Poppy pried herself off the clinging girl, and intent on completing Professor Slughorn's new ritual before the night grew too late.

Poppy blew out a breath of mock-exasperation, as the face that greeted her was one bearing a glowing and tender smile. The volatility of the budding witch was truly giving her a hard time to keep up with.

After performing a wandless healing spell on the growing first-year, she gently tucked her into the bed and took out her wand from her holster near her thigh in preparation for the ritual Horace had recently invented.

After making sure Ariana was comfortably snug under the white sheets against the soft pillows, she raised her wand and began to draw the first beginnings of intricate runes in the air, the first outlines in the shape of in a golden droplet.

Realizing what Poppy was doing, Ariana's eyes widened in surprise and she frantically waved her arms in the air to stop her.

"Madam Pomfrey," she spluttered in confusion as her arms still flailed about, "What are you doing?"

Poppy raised an eyebrow in curiousness at the sudden outburst and lowered her wand, deciding to humour her patient as the magical threads that were being drawn in the air vanished from the interruption.

"This is the new ritual that Professor Slughorn has recently invented," she answered, fondness creeping into her voice.

"He stumbled across a magical journal written around 30 years ago, _The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure,_ and derived a low-powered stunning spell that can slip past magical barriers in a confined space," she continued in impressed voice, clearly in full respect of the man.

"B-But isn't he the Potion Master?" Ariana stammered, still very confused about the matter.

"My dear," Poppy replied after giving a small chuckle, "Did you really that brainbox was only a Potions Master?"

"That man could easily run for Minister of Magic for all his knowledge and influence if he wanted to," she continued wistfully as she looked out the window at the moonlit sky, the glimmering stars shimmering and arranging themselves as if foretelling a prophecy.

"Alas, he has not a single ounce of ambition in him," Poppy sighed in resignation as she looked back down.

"Imagine the things he could do… if he were actually interested in saving this damn Wizarding World," she grumbled under her breath in annoyance, thinking she was out of hearing range of Ariana.

Ariana's eyes widened as she a faint memory in her previous life swam to the surface of her mind.

 _Albus looked tired, and his attire showed it too. The blackened bandage on his hand pulsated under the soft candlelight as his once majestic robes now looked lifeless and worn. He beckoned Harry to his side as he stood by his Pensieve._

" _Harry, listen closely," Albus began solemnly, his sky blue eyes strained and sallow skin taut._

" _Professor Slughorn is a man with knowledge that can even rival mine. He knows everything from making Felix Felicis, liquid luck, with his eyes closed – to the darkest magic ever known, like the creation of Horcruxes," he quietly informed._

 _He let out a weary sigh, giving Harry the impression of a tired old man in desperate need of one final rest._

 _Albus' eyes shone brightly through the dimness of his office as he looked down into the ever changing shapes in the Pensive, murmuring to himself._

 _"It's a pity Horace… you would have made a most formidable ally."_

A cleared throat broke Ariana out of her mind with a start as she realized she had been staring into space while perusing her memories, completely ignoring the patiently waiting mediwitch in the process.

Giving a sheepish smile in an apology, she lay back down onto the soft white pillows as cool crisp air stroked her face, curious to see the process and outcome of this avant-garde magic.

 _I definitely need to try to get Slughorn on my side._ She thought to herself as she let out a small yawn, the bed cradling her and giving her comfort she didn't know she needed. One by one, her worries slipped out of her mind as confident wand-waving drew complex shapes that breathed life to fire and rain in the air.

Her eyelids grew heavier as melodic chanting echoed around the Hospital Wing, the full moon that illuminated and bathed the chanting mediwitch almost made her take on an ethereal image.

The last thing she heard before she drifted into the distant land of dreams was a faint sound drifting through the open window that would almost certainly terrify most wizards and witches. This particular sound, somehow, brought her a sense of comfort, safety and warmness.

It was the gut-wrenching sound that resembled a pained wolf, howling forlornly into the starlit night.

* * *

A/N: Lots of new developments, stay tuned!

P.S. Thanks for the constructive reviews!


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 13**

 _The next morning_

A single golden leaf detached itself from a branch and pirouetted down an invisible spiral of breeze, spinning through the air as it let itself be carried down. Its elegant dance went unnoticed by the arboreal creatures inhabiting the surrounding trees as they were still slumbering away peacefully in the early darkness of the crisp autumn morning.

The leaf had almost completed its descent and was just about to land gracefully on the soft ground, when it was suddenly whisked upwards by the grip of an unnatural icy wind. Soaring upwards, the leaf was carried far and wide into the gradually brightening sky, its ambers and bronzes standing out even in the murkiness.

The aged leaf finally knew its purpose in life as the wind currents gently guided it towards an open window. When its humble genesis from seed to sapling to adult was ultimately coming to an end, the first shimmering rays of dawn peaked over the placid forest, bestowing a golden path that swathed across the horizon.

The wind currents finally dissipated and the leaf fluttered downwards towards a sleeping young girl in one final descent; down towards a young girl that carried the entire weight of the world on her small shoulders.

Ariana woke up with a muted yelp as she felt something caresses her face, causing her to sit up and flail about blindly for a second in the soft darkness. Soft sheets wrapped her up in a warm cocoon as she waited for a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the gloomy surroundings. Still half-awake, she hazily spotted the offending article on her lap.

"The ruddy window was left open," she groaned as she flopped back down on her pillow in tiredness, picking up the leaf and crushing it in her fist in annoyance. As she carelessly tossed its crumbled remains over the side of her hospital bed, a small gust of air swept past her and lightly carried the floating remnants out the window and back down to the forest.

Nature had claimed back what was theirs.

After tossing and turning for a few minutes, she disgruntledly sat upright in her bed as she decided that going back to sleep was impossible. Normally, Ariana would have woken up earlier for researching or training but for the first time in a long while, she had a peaceful night's sleep. This was a rare time where she went without waking up in a cold sweat, drowned in the memories of a past life that never seemed to fade away.

She then calmed her breathing and closed her eyes, uttering a mantra that she had been chanting… or attempting to chant every morning ever since she revealed her time travelling to Albus. With her entire body relaxed, she opened her mouth and let out a soft murmur.

"My real name is…"

She let out a choked sound as the muscles in her throat tensed up. She continued to sitting upright as she recovered from the spasm, clad only in a hospital gown that was decorated with tiny pink hibiscuses.

 _Say it… SAY IT._

"My real name is… i-is…H-," she stammered, her own tongue denying her and forcefully folding back onto itself as she felt her mind writhing about like a thrashing animal in its death throes.

Ariana noisily exhaled in a shudder as she gave up, opening her eyes wearily and looking towards the open window as the first few drops of golden sunlight bathed her in a soft halo.

"Why, just… why?" she whispered to herself as her dainty fingers curled and grasped onto the cotton bed sheet tightly. She had a million and one questions but there was no one to answer her.

It was then, for the first time in this strange new place, that Ariana felt truly alone. No family to call on, no friends to speak of that could offer recourse, no living being that truly knew her for who she was.

She desperately wanted a confidant, one whom she could spill out everything that she kept bottled up tightly within her heart. Albus was out of the equation as every time she tried to bring something up about her past life with him, her mouth automatically locked shut for an infuriatingly unknown reason.

A faint rustling outside of her screen that enclosed her bed made her jump slightly and broke her out of her mesh of muddled thoughts. Curious as she always will be, she slowly unwrapped herself from the deliciously warm sheets and slid off her bed, jamming her feet into a waiting pair of white woollen slippers on the stone floor.

Peeking out from behind the screen, her inquisitive eyes scanned every corner of the gradually brightening hospital wing until they finally rested upon the dim silhouette of a sleeping body that was occupying one of the beds on the far side of the room.

Deciding to let the other patient rest peacefully, she turned back and gathered up her robes that she was going to change into but suddenly froze in the process, as she realized whom the mop of hair from the unknown patient belonged to.

She slowly peeked out to look at the still mass on the other side of the Hospital Wing, contemplating on whether to avoid the situation entirely. After pacing around and internally fighting for a few minutes, she finally decided on her course of action and slowly crept towards the unmoving figure.

As she drew nearer to the patient, she sorrowfully heard sounds of sharp, shallow breaths filled with barely disguised pain from the sleeping convalescent.

A gaunt and taut face of a boy that had aged too quickly greeted her when she finally arrived as stringy and wavy brown hair framed a sharp nose, high cheekbones and pale lips. He was not wearing a hospital gown, but rather his Hogwarts robes instead. Numerous holes and slash marks covered the cloth, the visibility allowing her to see old scars that lay on top of one another in a never ending count.

Ariana's heart flooded open as she tip-toed to look at the strained face of someone she truly cared about.

"My dear Remus," she whispered as memories poured forth from the depths of her mind, feeling a light tingling of magic that restlessly bubbled within her.

When Sirius died in her past life, the glue that held her together was from a certain Professor that shared an even greater guilt, an even greater sorrow, and an even greater anguish than her. Selflessly pushing all his own feelings aside, Remus had tried his hardest to keep her head above the water level as she pitifully wasted away in the Dursleys.

Remus had cared for her above all else, including himself.

With a trembling hand, Ariana lightly pushed aside some thin hair out of his face as she bent forward to look closer at his face. She felt powerful magic unwillingly surge through her as white light gently began to pulsate from her already pale skin.

An unfamiliar sensation within her caused her to perform an action she had never done before in either of her lives, past or present. She placed both of her soft hands on his bony cheeks and leaned down slowly, planting a tender kiss on Remus's forehead, unaware that she was physically glowing as her mind was too focused on her person in front of her.

Ariana's eyes widened as Remus stirred slightly from the contact and quickly detached, scooting back as quietly as she could back into safely of her bed, the light emanating from her skin fading too quickly for her realize what had happened.

With no particular reason, she suddenly felt an intense feeling of happiness surge through every fibre of her being, casting out all dismal thoughts and feelings of isolation that she was harbouring.

As she sat cross-legged on her soft white bed, a single thought thundered through her mind as her mouth lifted up into a soft smile.

 _I am not alone._

* * *

 _The Nemegt Basin; located in the north-western Gobi Desert, southern Mongolia._

A lone house lay in the middle of the basin, its decrepit nature looking as if it were to fall apart any second from the dust that was violently whipping against it. A more experienced eye would eventually notice the layer after layer of magic lovingly imbued into every grain of wood and every piece of nail, the strong magic keeping the place together through the harshest of sandstorms.

A harsh crack of sound that resembled lightning echoed loudly in a desolate area, causing some of the loose rock on the sides of the valley to tremble and lose their battle against gravity, tumbling downwards in a dusty landslide.

Four individuals stepped out of the shack into the scorching sun, their thick black robes making a highly suspect item of choice to wear in this torrid environment. A muffled voice called out through the wind as the four individuals inspected their surroundings.

"The cave is just up ahead," a masked man yelled loudly as he could over the howling wind, pointing forwards with his right hand while the other hand held a curious device that resembled an astrolabe.

The obvious leader of the present company gave a nod of approval and marched forward in the blazing sun, his three followers trailing after him after casting cooling and wind-buffering charms of every sort on themselves, indicating clearly that they were unused to such searing temperatures.

The cruel sun beat down on the four travellers with its malevolent unblinking eye as the sky acted as a co-conspirator, with not even a wisp of cloud to soften the harsh rays.

They encountered a path that led them up to a trail that had been created by imprints that by no means belonged to man. It was obscured by bushes and fallen rocks and sloped high into a valley. The path halted and a sinister-looking cave appeared, desert foliage winding around the entrance that almost hid the jagged opening from sight.

Just as the head of the group was about to enter the dark cave, a voice behind caused a stoppage of movement.

"I still don't understand," a cloaked man uttered, a refined tone colouring his perplexity.

"Why do we need these creatures to aid us again?"

A hearty laugh filled the air in response, the noise echoing as it bounced off the entrance and down into the ominous cave.

"Really, Lucius… now of all times?" Tom Riddle pointed out in mild amusement, a smirk adorning his handsome and unnaturally youthful face.

Lucius Malfoy, recently appointed head of the venerated Malfoy bloodline, sheepishly coughed and began to spout apologies to which his master stopped short with a lazy wave of his hand.

Voldemort turned towards his followers with his arms outstretched.

"Make no mistake, all three of you are the most devoted and capable of my Death Eaters," he began slowly, causing the two men and woman in front of him to stand up straight at the statement.

"I assure you, my views have not changed… only my methods," he enunciated.

The lone female could not help herself as she interrupted her master with zeal.

"They are filthy beasts, my Lord. They have no place among the pure," she cried out vehemently, her stocky body tensing up in fury.

Voldemort cocked his head at her.

"They are still magical in nature are they not? Half-breed does not equate to half-blood. You compare the natural degradation of a magical species to the insidious dilution of magical genes," he countered matter-of-factly to one of the Carrow siblings.

The other masked man could not contain his thoughts any longer as he too joined the discourse.

"Alecto, quiet your tongue. This is clearly our master's grand plan to keep a watchful eye on the unknown variables while we carry out The Cause," he asserted, his rugged face adorned with a gleaming fire in his eyes.

"In addition, if anything goes wrong politically that does not concern financial matters, we always have the beasts as a scapegoat."

Voldemort gave a small clap as he regarded Antonin Dolohov, one of his most formidable Death Eaters.

"Very adroitly explained...," he commended, "…but that is not all there is to it."

"Come, let us finish our business here before I explain the rest," he commanded before whirling around and striding with purpose towards the inky throat of the cave. As his prized followers obediently begun walking in step behind him, they noted with mild interest that the floor was littered with an immeasurable amount of skeletons of what were once sentient creatures.

After walking in the cave for a few minutes, guided and bathed from the light from their wands, Lord Voldemort suddenly and noiselessly stopped the adventuring party with a raised hand as they reached a large open area.

Long winding streams that quietly meandered down the rock surfaces around them shone in the most brilliant colours of lilac and viridian. The mist that hung above them was long and wispy, almost translucent to a point where one could only see faint silhouettes against the craggy backdrop of the grotto.

The tranquillity was suddenly broken when a giant ball of fire sudden launched itself from across the open cavern, temporarily revealing a large and scaled mouth in the brief blaze as it hurtled towards the seemingly unsuspecting group.

Voldemort saw the fire out of the corner of his eye and in calm preparedness, raised a red book in front of him with a large silver rune inscribed on its surface depicting the outline of a roaring waterfall. The ball of fire that had been steadily approaching suddenly flickered and dissipated into nothingness, its last embers scattering across the cavern in a shimmering display.

" _The Magic of Old,"_ a voice rumbled in the language of serpents from the darkness, curiosity painting the hiss. _"Who are you I wonder, to wield such ancient magic?"_

Voldemort saw immediately that the conversation had started off favourably on his side, and intended to gain capital on it.

" _Great beast, my knowledge of the ancient arts is second to none in this world, and in the world beyond,"_ Voldemort hissed in return with confidence.

Another surprised rumble filled the cave at the use of Parseltongue. An intrigued head poked out of the darkness and into the dim light of the wands.

"Antonin was right after all… this is indeed a wayward Catalonian Fireball. A fine species," Voldemort murmured to himself as the visible head scrutinized him with piercing and highly intelligent eyes. Dragons had an ego that was unrivalled by any magical being and would only converse with one that was as big as theirs.

Without giving the dragon a chance to speak, Voldemort stowed the runic book back into his robes as a show of good faith and began to speak.

" _I request an audience as the only descent alive of Salazar Slytherin,"_ he assertively appealed as he opened his palms upwards the dragon, showing that there was no weapon in either hand.

The Catalonian Fireball paused for a second before exhaling in a nasally breath of contempt, blowing hot steam into Voldemort's face from its nose.

" _I have nothing to offer to the world of humans,"_ it hissed as the shadowy head slinked back once more into the darkness.

" _Leave, kin of Salazar, before you face my full wrath."_

Voldemort was unperturbed by the abrupt denial. _"You are one of the last free dragons in this world,"_ he called out to the retreating head, _"I intend to change that fact."_

A loud and menacing growl permeated the air for a brief second, deafening enough for the other Death Eaters to clap their hands over their ears in pain.

" _Explain."_

Voldemort pulled out a glass cube from his robes and threw it on the rocky floor in front of him. When it hit the floor, it did not shatter but instead levitated up to his waist and started projecting images in the air. Images of countless magical beasts flashed rapidly in succession, each one telling a different story.

" _Centaurs, Pixies, Thestrals, Merpeople, Gnomes, and many more, roam free and untouched,"_ Voldemort began, synchronizing his hisses with the flashing images that appeared out of the magical cube.

The images then switched to a darker tone, " _Yet while some creatures roam free, other creatures, including dragons, have all been captured and enslaved by humans… often for their own entertainment,"_ he continued as he lit a ball of fire in his hand wandlessly and snuffed it out for emphasis.

As images of caged beasts flicked by more and more rapidly, a giant scaled paw came crashing down onto the cube out of the darkness, causing the fragments to scatter across the open area in a million different fragments.

" _ENOUGH!"_ it bellowed, the sound echoing around the large cavern.

" _My brethren… locked up as slaves? We were once the kings of the skies. Tell me what_ _ **CHANGED**_ _,"_ it roared in fury as it slammed its gigantic paw against the rocky ground with the last word, causing the group to unceremoniously topple to the floor from the impact.

The room was still visibly vibrating from the dragons' anger as Voldemort leapt agilely back onto his feet.

" _The Muggles,"_ he softly crooned, his powerful voice easily rising above the din.

" _Once the Magical community realized that the Muggles were causing too much trouble when catching sight of magical beasts, they began to lock down on every last one in an effort to preserve their ancient secrecy."_

Voldemort was not done yet as he begun the fiery tirade anew.

" _What separates Dragon from Centaur, man from beast, strong from the weak? This world has changed for the worse,"_ he spat, his eyes flashing a bright red temporarily.

" _Pandering to all in their weakness mindedness, people now deal in morals and social justice, instead of truths and facts. It is a great poison to our current society,"_ he snarled in extreme loathing.

" _The world needs to be reshaped with an iron fist, where men, women and beast alike can be given individuality and can carry out their wills without the regard or judgement of the spineless and lesser minded,"_ he finished powerfully, with a voice brimming with youthful charisma and energy.

For around half a minute there was total silence, and Voldemort had feared that his argument had failed to persuade the beast.

Out of the blue, the dragon suddenly launched out from the opaque darkness and stopped his head a mere few feet away from Voldemort, causing his three loyal companions to jump back from the sudden movement, its blistering breath causing their skin to turn raw from the close proximity.

" _And where exactly… wizard, do you fit in with this plan?"_ it lowly purred as a forked tongue flicked around in the air, the fetid vapours and odours that oozed from its powerful and scaly jaw overpowering Voldemort's senses.

Voldemort gave a bitter laugh despite the heat and miasma as he fearlessly stared directly at the beasts' narrowed yellow slits.

"Total freedom is no different from total chaos,"he murmured to himself in a brief respite from the harsh language of serpents, decades of experience gone by not showing on his abnormally young face.

He gazed at the waiting beast with an unsmiling and unreadable countenance.

" _Degradation of a system as a whole does **not** mean that all its elements are beginning to disintegrate," _ he replied as he blatantly avoided the dragon's question, causing the dragon to widen its eyes in rage.

" _For a cause to actually take effect there must be certain conditions,"_ he continued in fervour _. "Conditions cannot in themselves give rise to the effect, for the cause is also powerless without them."_

Voldemort would have continued on further, but the dragon violently blew out steaming vapour from its enormous nostrils in anger, covering and obscuring him entirely from head to toe.

" _The Principle of Causality,"_ his voice elucidated through the smoke as it was clearing, unperturbed by the action.

Voldemort's imposing face then came into view… a face full of sincerity, justice, anger, hunger, knowledge and most of all, power.

" _We cannot move even our little finger without disturbing the universe,"_ he finished with passion, extending both his arms outwards the dragon as if he were holding the entire world in his arms.

The entire cavern was absolutely still as the dragon looked intensely into Voldemort's dark eyes, searching his soul for any signs of untruths or chicanery. It pulled its head back into the shadows with a smug huff once it saw was it was looking for.

An ear-splitting roar accompanied by the terrifying loud sound of hard scales dragged upon jagged rocks seemed to pale in comparison to the noise it made as it pulled itself out of the shadows and came thundering into full view, causing rocks and stalactites to rain down around the group of humans from the sheer force of its arrival.

They could fully see for the first time the fearsome and temperamental beast that Voldemort had been conversing with as it towered above them.

The streaks of golden and flecks of golden indicated that this Catalonian Fireball was an adult female, weighing roughly twenty tons and standing fifty feet tall. It was a smooth scaled scarlet dragon, with a leonine face and a ring of golden spikes along the jaw, framing its face. Its sub-snouted face and extremely protuberant eyes were only emphasized by a row of terrifying sharp teeth that was designed to rip, tear and ravage.

" _I know what you desire, Snakeling… and I also know what you want of me,"_ it gutturally hissed, flames licking at the back its throat as the clever beast gazed dispassionately upon them.

" _I will inform the others of my decision."_

This was something Voldemort had not predicted as he gave a start of surprise, temporarily lowering his guard.

" _Others? Decision?"_ he echoed as he cocked his head.

" _There are more of us, young one"_ the ancient dragon boomed, flapping his powerful crimson wings as its scales rippled with anticipation for a day that has been long-waited. _"There was a time when beast walked beside man in total harmony, unhindered by petty laws or injunctions."_

" _To free my brethren, victory is unobtainable through magic or blood, but only by words and understanding."_

The dragon's words seemed to stir something deep in the black pits of Voldemort's heart.

" _Come, kin of Salazar, we have a great task laid before us."_

Fire licked at the back of its throat as it then proclaimed something that seemed impossible - save to the fearsome prodigy that was Voldemort.

 _"To free the very nature of man from itself."_

* * *

The dragon flying off in the sunset made for quite a sight as muscular wings gave it speed that no broom could ever hope to match. When the tiny dot on the horizon finally vanished, Voldemort turned towards his three patient and silent followers, breathing a sigh of relief at the positive outcome.

His eyes hardened as he knew time was of the essence for him. Getting up from sitting position at the entrance of the cave, he turned towards his loyal supporters as the vanishing sun threw its soft pink rays upon them.

"Now, comes the second reason as to why we are in Mongolia. We are completely untraceable here," he began as he addressed his followers.

Plunging his hands into his robes, he pulled out three unique necklaces that had an image of a red, yellow, and green snake engraved into the centrepiece respectively.

"Listen closely. I am going to be… unavailable for a few months. Therefore, I have tasks of paramount importance for each of you in my absence," he continued as he pressed his index finger into all three of the snakes one after another, causing them to shimmer for a brief second as they each activated.

He then turned toward Lucius with a burning intensity that other wizards and witches would be hard-pressed to match.

"Lucius, the current state of the Ministry is in shambles, as you well know," he began, their eyes locking as Lucius placed the green necklace around his neck. "Your necklace is an artifact that will greatly aid you in the art of persuasion."

"There is an inflexible dichotomy between the economic and political powers in the Wizarding World. The businessman's tool is _values_ ; the bureaucrat's tool is fear. Your task is to make them one and the same," he commanded.

Lucius' reverent bow was all he needed to confirm that his will would be carried out.

He then turned to Antonin, a master strategist who was light-years ahead of his peers and was rarely beaten in any setting of planned combat.

Voldemort looked to the ground as his mind raced through his dark memories during World War II, the harsh reality of the human condition shaping him for who he was.

"Dolohov, the age of deterrence has become the age of control." he heavily sighed, "The Muggles call it M.A.D."

Antonin scrunched his face is perplexity as he tried to make sense of what his master was trying to say.

"M.A.D, my Lord?"

Voldemort nodded as he paced up and down, "Mutually Assured Destruction, is what they call it. Basically, if one wanted to completely annihilate an enemy, the enemy would in turn complete annihilate them back."

Antonin laughed mirthlessly, "Surely you jest, My Lord. Muggles don't have that kind of power,"

Voldemort's face grew dark as the images of mushroom-shaped clouds coalesced in his mind.

"Yes, they do," he quietly correctly.

"Muggles kill, consume, torture, interrogate for no reason but because their superiors ordered it, or even for their own pleasure. On the other hand, when _we_ take a life, it has meaning, it has purpose; for rituals; for sacrifices; for power."

"Muggles... they need no purpose to invade and plunder and destroy everything they touch. As long as I have the will and strength, these Muggles will _not_ destroy our sacred society," he growled, a feral snarl appearing on his handsome face.

He placed the second necklace in one hand and proffered it towards Antonin with one final adage.

"He who controls the battlefield… controls history."

Antonin's face grew solemn as he recognized his unspoken task and accepted the mysterious necklace, knowing full well what it was capable of. The yellow hue on the serpent had a similar colour to the dust and sand that stretched for miles around them.

Voldemort then finally turned toward Alecto, a being of pure magical prowess that was feared by all on the battlefield.

Her loud and composed voice suddenly filled the air once his attention focused on her, cutting him off entirely before he even started.

"My lord, you've changed recently."

Voldemort raised a curious eyebrow at the unexpected declaration.

"Not in a bad way I hope?" he smirked in mild amusement.

Alecto let out a shaky breath before answering, "No, my Lord. You're actually starting to make sense now."

Lucius and Antonin gasped at her blatant disrespect and both began to talk over each other in unison at her. Their clamorous din was suddenly muzzled by a powerful non-verbal silencing spell.

The air dropped by a few degrees as Voldemort took a slow step towards Alecto. Every instinct in her screamed at her to run away, but her muscles firmly locked in place as she held her ground.

"Explain," he said softly, in a dangerous voice that promised pain unlike any other if the answer displeased him.

Alecto steadied her breath and looked him square in the eye.

"For the past few years… your teachings have just been to simply drive all Muggle presence from the Wizarding World, without regard for consequence or the Old Teachings," she hesitatingly began.

"Now however, you proactively want to protect this Wizarding World from all dangers and restore it into new heights to which the world has never seen before," she continued with bright shining eyes.

"For that, my life is eternally in your hands until I fall in battle, or until time itself vanquishes me," she ended reverently as she knelt to the ground on one knee with a lowered head in humble respect, her stocky body tensing up for what could be multiple rounds of the Cruciatus for her outspoken insolence.

All was silent for a brief moment; the only sound to be heard was her heavy breathing in the gentle wind of the desert evening. Suddenly, something cool touched her neck, causing her to jump in shock instead of pain.

As she dared to look up, she only saw the hands of her master, placing the final red necklace around her neck and fixing it at her nape.

This act of forgiveness was too much for the loyal Death Eater. She broke down as hot tears burst forth like water from a dam from her luminous eyes.

"Truly, you are the master that the Wizarding World needs," she wept, as Voldemort firmly pulled her to her feet.

He waited for a few seconds for her to calm down as she furiously wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, embarrassed that she had temporarily lost control in front of her fellow Death Eaters.

"Alecto, your presence on the field of battle is one of inspiration to the newer recruits. Your task is to now dogmatize my new teachings, in a manner so that they fully understand the failing society that we are living in."

Alecto's watery eyes squinted uncertainty, "New… teachings, my Lord?"

Voldemort ignored her and cast his eyes upwards towards the gradually brightening stars. The sun had just finally set and the heat of the day had ebbed to comforting warmth. The light of the day drained away, giving way to the velvety dark of night, the chirping crickets, and the cloudless sky that bestowed an unfettered view of the heavens.

Wandlessly conjuring a sphere to light to give them vision, Voldemort placed his hands behind his back as he looked back at Alecto. Glancing briefly at Lucius and Antonin to show them that they too were instructed to listen, he began his uninterrupted and electrifying speech.

"Think of the Oracles at Delphi when Greece was at the peak of its power, in full control of the lands and seas," he began as he animatedly described each scenario.

"Think of the Prophets at the Great Pyramids when the Egyptians were at the peak of their power, inspiring millions to work with unquestionable devotion."

"Think of the Sibyls and Augurs at the temples in Rome, who governed and protected their land as it expanded its empire to proportions that seemed humanly impossible."

Voldemort then clenched his fists in anger, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw the first signs of blood.

"Then, all of sudden, these vast empires simply... fell."

"Each story has a similar thematic layout, with each society being infested with an increasing count of Muggles which discover the existence of magic."

"The Olympian Gods for example, were the Grecian's way of quantifying a group of Delphic oracles, who were extremely powerful witches and wizards."

"For the Egyptians it was the Pharaohs, and for the Romans it was stories of heroes like Horatius or Aeneas."

"All of them, stories about accomplished wizards or witches. All of them… failed attempts to quantify the unquantifiable."

"The Muggles, in their fear of the unknown, caused great empires to fall to reasons that ranged from politics to linguistics, from demagoguery to utilitarianism, from belief to the clashing of spears and shields."

"All of these calamities stem from a single point in history… when Muggles first discover the existence of magic."

"This viscous cycle we are living in can be broken... and this I _will_ make happen," he vowed, his eyes alight with flame.

Voldemort's dark eyes smouldered with passion as he gazed into the captivated eyes of his followers.

"Now I ask you… are you with me?"

The deafening roar of the voices mixed and echoed around the desert, the noise loud of enough to shake every rock and pebble in the entire basin and loud enough to stir every heart and set it alight with a burning fire that seemed almost unquenchable.

Voldemort grinned savagely at his faithful disciples.

"Come then, let us save this rotting world with our blood-stained hands, one step at a time."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 14**

A cloaked woman shuffled quickly through a dim room, half-tripping as she tried her hardest to move against the constricting fabric of the taut robe. A purple hood adorned her head, obscuring her face in inky darkness as she gripped onto a file in front of her chest with both hands in silent panic.

The room she was currently crossing was a something of a parody the famous Muggle writer Dante would conjure up in his visions of Hell.

It was a long, rectangular room that was lit by low-hanging lamps that shone a morbid red, like the vivid red of freshly spilled blood. In contrast to that, tanks of sentient encephala that swam around in a sickly green solution were situated methodically around the room on brown wooden tables. Every piece of equipment was engraved with a description on its surface that seemed most chillingly apt.

 _The Brain Room._

As the covered figure hurried by the tables, the moist and gelatinous brains stirred to life within the tanks and started slamming themselves against the glass in an attempt attach on to her as she passed by, each time letting out a pulse of light as they rammed themselves against the magically reinforced glass.

Each flash temporarily lit up her face in the darkness, each flash only showing cold black eyes that totally ignored her surroundings and was focused on one thing only, a charcoal-black door on the other side of the room.

She was getting nearer.

Finally reaching the blackened door, she heard the soft sound of murmurs emanating from within as she reached for the brass handle. Gathering her nerves, she pushed it open.

Twelve sets of eyes immediately whipped towards her as she entered the room. It was a brightly illuminated room, causing her to squint as she adjusted to the weird beige glow, a stark juxtaposition to the previous room. A round metallic table lay in the centre of the otherwise empty room, with thirteen seats – and twelve occupied.

Pulling back her hood, she spoke immediately, cutting off the obvious leader in the room as he was opening his mouth.

"Sir, a Class 1-A breach just happened today. This is fro-"

" _Sit_ down, Unspeakable Mayers," the man growled as he interrupted her, "We will hear it after we finish the current topic."

Marie Mayers closed her mouth with a snap and obediently marched towards her seat and quietly sat down. The man in charge had a middle-aged face that was mostly obscured by a red scraggly beard that clung to his skin like winter-ravaged icy tendrils. His shrewd eyes revealed that he was well equipped for dealing with trouble of any sort.

Titus Payne, the current head of the Department of Mysteries then looked towards the thirteen most gifted people in the Wizarding world, and began his tirade.

"By Merlin's Beard, you lot are as useless as a bunch of morally evolved Flobberworms," he snapped, getting up and pacing around the circular table.

"One whole month, and you can't figure out why all the Time-Turners have stopped working – and even better – we can't even make one which works," he continued, with a small amount of spittle forming at his lips.

"This is now a joint effort among all the divisions as this problem affects us all in more ways than one."

He turned towards a clean shaven man, barely in his thirties with grey eyes and a mop of brown hair that acted like a crown on top of his head.

"Unspeakable Duncan, how much has this affected crime?" he barked.

Colin Duncan, head of the department that investigated Time, steepled his fingers and leaned forwards, his eyes shining with steely righteous anger.

"Not too much, the public hasn't gotten wind of this yet."

Noting a few confused faces around the table, he further elucidated why these intricate objects held important place in the Wizarding world.

"The reason why we are so safe is because crime of a magical nature is somewhat feared in our current society, due to our Time-Turners," he began.

"We will appear at scenes of a crime long after it occurs and travel back – just far enough – to catch our lawbreaker."

A voice piped up inquisitively from his side, "I thought interfering with time could have severe consequences?"

Duncan nodded at the speaker in agreement, "Yes, but we only identify the magical trace in the area. Then, and only then, can we link it to a wand or magical core in the present to bring the dangerous or elusive culprit in."

His eyes tightened, "I truly hope we can find a fix soon enough without anyone knowing, especially this new self-proclaimed Dark Lord."

A hand slammed down onto the table, causing it to vibrate with anger from the action.

"They get the picture, Unspeakable Duncan," Titus Payne snarled. Scanning the heads one by one, he located who he was looking for.

"Unspeakable Rookwood, unfortunately we can hide this situation no longer," he scowled.

"Contact the _Bundesnachrichtendienst_ in Germany and get the information we need," he tersely commanded, in total loathing of the idea of asking for external help.

Augustus Rookwood, head of the department that deals with foreign magic and artifacts, nodded. His hard face with his soulless black eyes and clumps of wild curls that bizarrely stuck out in every direction from his head could easily fool someone into believing that he was a mere thug with all brawn and no brain. In truth however, his silver tongue was second to none.

"As you wish," he simply replied.

Satisfied with the response, Titus begun handing out dossiers to the rest of the Unspeakables that patiently sat around the table, each file displaying numerous amounts of caveats, unique to each division.

After an hour more of fierce orders, he finally gave out a command that made the majority of the room breathe a sigh of relief.

"Meeting adjourned."

Unspeakable Mayers only then remembered the other reason why she was here and loudly cleared her throat, desperate to bring this attention to the gathered group.

"Sir, we still have my case of the security breach to discuss," she hurriedly reminded, causing her colleagues to collectively look towards their boss as they froze, half-risen from the seats.

An affirmative grunt was all she needed as she quickly stood up and took out her file, causing the other members to sit back down in slight annoyance, the screeching of metallic chairs against the shiny floor grating on everyone's ears. She took a deep breath, and began.

"At precisely twelve minutes past ten this morning, every record that we have ever had of Muggle-born witches and wizards… was destroyed," she revealed after a slight pause, her pale hands tightly gripping her file.

A strange silence greeted her as the people in the room looked at each other in uncertainty at the proclamation.

Titus, however, looked at her as if she was mad.

"Leave that to the Ministry pencil-pushers, you buffoon. This is not our concern," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, preparing to leave with an irritated huff.

Mayers' stoic face tinged red and she tightened her grip in slight anger as she struggled to control the tone of her voice.

"Sir, what makes this our concern is that there is an unknown spell that stops us recording down any new information relating to Muggle-borns," she spoke with gritted teeth.

Seeing that a nascent spark of curiosity was ignited in her boss's eye, she renewed her confidence and pushed forward.

"Every time someone in the Ministry takes down some information on a Muggle-Born, the recording apparatus disintegrates in a fiery burst of green. Now, the bad news is that this type of magic has been identified as a powerful curse," she continued.

"The good news however, is that my department tells me that the unique flash of green is hinting towards a something of a Mongolian origin," she finished in one breath, giving a huge internal sigh of relief as she sat back down as she sucked cool air back into her lungs.

Time seemed to slow down for Titus Payne as he stroked his scraggly beard and looked upwards, the cogs and sprockets in his mind whirred at a speed only a few could achieve on this mortal plane. He was the leader of one of the most powerful organizations in the world for a reason.

"Unspeakable Mayers, have your Spell Creation team drop all your current cases and move on to this one," he began slowly, enunciating each word as his glazed eyes remained fixated onto the ceiling, seemingly playing out a thousand scenarios all at once.

Mayers finally broke her emotionless mask as she spluttered with disbelief at the drastic order.

"A-All the cases? We still have around fifty of cases wher-…,"

The room shuddered as the brightly lit room suddenly dimmed to a dark blue, like a harrowing midwinter night an hour before pitch dark. The Unspeakables started shivering as a piercing frost seeped into their very bones.

" _Drop. Your. Cases."_

Mayers could feel her muscles clench tight from the cold, the hairs on her arms rising while her eyes dilated with panic.

"Y-yes sir," she forced out, her now purple lips tinged with blue while her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

As quickly as the powerful magic arrived, it left swiftly after she uttered those words, restoring the room back to the gentle pale glow. The more sensible people in the room immediately cast silent warming charms on themselves.

Titus rubbed his temples briefly before looking up and continuing on, as if nothing had happened at all.

"Unspeakable Rookwood, after your trip to Germany, rendezvous with Mayers in Mongolia. You are now in charge of this case."

Mayers almost made a noise in protest at the decision but wisely clamped her mouth shut at the last second.

"As you wish," Rookwood simply replied, the only one in the room completely unfazed from the strange burst of magic he just experienced.

Titus then scanned the folders strewed on the circular table one last time before getting up, the other Unspeakables avoiding his gaze like the plague.

"Meeting adjourned."

* * *

The corridor was exquisite. The walls were covered with a shimmering gold sheen while the high ceiling was dotted with floating candelabra, each one waltzing in each other's soft glow. The sound of quiet footsteps permeated the air and steadily increased in volume as they approached.

"Really, Marie? Angering the boss this early in the morning?" Augustus lazily jabbed as both he and another figure walked languidly down the corridor, basking in the light.

"Oh shut it, Gus," Marie replied as she rolled her eyes, one arm snaking out and swatting him playfully.

She had a warm chestnut coloured hair and pastel white skin which made her glossy pink lips stand out. As she walked, her not overly tall and willowy figure moved with confidence, her cheeks radiating an intelligent beauty.

Her cerulean blue eyes then grew thoughtful as she recalled the great, but carefully controlled, burst of magic she had just been the brunt of.

"Titus 'Mad Dog' Payne… that was the first time I've actually met him face-to-face," she admitted after a pause.

She then whirled to Augustus in slight annoyance.

"You could have warned me!" she groaned.

Augustus let out a hearty chuckle as he received a death glare that showed promise of utmost pain.

Her eyes then lost all shades of humour as she continued.

"Look, I don't know why he put you in charge of a case that clearly–"

Augustus raised his hands up in a gesture of peace.

"I'll just be the leader in name only. I know fully well that your abilities are more adequately suited to this case than anyone else," he reassuringly responded.

He then perked up an eyebrow in slight curiosity.

"You seem quite ardent of late in handling cases that involve Muggle-borns. Is there a particular reason? Or do you just like involving yourself with… them," he asked, the last word dripping with a hidden touch of scorn.

Marie whipped her head around as she stared at a thuggish-looking face she knew all too well, knowing the mind of a genius lay behind it.

"You do not support the Muggle-borns?"

His face grew slightly blank and then gave a little shrug.

"I neither support nor oppose them, part of the job — you know this, Marie."

"Yes, yes… part of the job," she muttered to herself, ending the conversation as she quickened her pace.

A few minutes passed of monotonous walking and all Augustus could hear was Marie grumbling constantly to herself under her breath. Augustus took an educated guess as to what was troubling his friend.

"Marie, surely your current cases can't be that interesting enough to warrant the anger of the Mad Dog himself," he suddenly spoke out, dead certain on what was on her mind.

"They were all so interesting," she whined in response, crossing her arms across her chest in a manner that resembled a petulant child.

"Well, which was the most eye-catching of the lot then?" Augustus nonchalantly asked, deciding to humour her as they leisurely strolled onward.

Marie scrunched up her attractive face in thought as she mentally visualized each one in her mind.

"Probably…" she began slowly as her brain whirred away, "… the one about the young girl?"

"Oh?"

Marie nodded vigorously as she agreed with herself, totally at ease with herself with sharing classified information with him.

"Yeah, definitely this case… the girl called Ariana who these proclaimed 'Death Eaters' tortured."

Augustus stiffened, a small halt in his otherwise fluid and predatory gait, but quickly recovered and caught back in step, waving a lofty hand in the air.

"Well, it is highly unfortunate that the Muggle-borns are the targets of the new Dark–"

"Gus, she was from a long line of Pure-Bloods," Marie suddenly broke in, "We traced her family for several generations back."

Augustus let out a scoff.

"Death-Eaters – torture a Pure-blood?" Augustus refuted, "Hardly fits with their modus operandi, don't you think?"

"You're right, it actually doesn't," she pondered, her brow furrowing with thought as a troubled frown appeared on her face.

Augustus had his full attention on her now, thoughts racing through his brain.

"What family did she belong to?" he asked carefully, his eyes scanning her face.

The intriguing case finally fully filtered to the forefront of Marie's mind after a slight jog of her memory.

"She is of the bloodline of the ancient Peverell family," she burst out with bright energy, "Her genealogy – which was extremely fascinating – was also almost impossible to find, but we finally managed to pull out some documents relating their last descendants."

The bright spark in her eye slowly faded as she continued, "We used all the available information we had to track down her parents… or what was left of them."

A viscous snarl appeared on her face, "The magical residue found on them was similar to those on the child. It would appear that these Death Eaters murdered them before turning on her," she spat in, her venom-filled voice resounding around the corridor.

Augustus felt an invisible blow hit his chest and puncture his lugs, like a direct hit from freshly sharpened morning-star in the heat of a raging battle.

"They murdered…. Pure-bloods?" he weakly asked, his eyes darting back and forth as his thoughts churned in complete disarray.

Marie turned her head and looked at him funnily, sensing that something was off with her friend.

Augustus caught and held her gaze for a second, before straightening up slightly and regaining control of his voice.

"What I meant was, why this was not publicised?" he quickly recovered, the inflections in his voice lessening in intensity as he continued, "Surely, the loss of two ancient pure-bloods would of have been quickly noticed by the populous."

Marie let out a short and bitter laugh, sounding like the harsh grating sound of steel upon steel.

"Although they were born in Britain, we found them living as anchorites in the Scottish highlands," she replied in a tone that seemed slightly bitter, "…and the Scots don't give a 'shite' about what type of blood you had… and not in a positive way either."

Marie gave Augustus another look which for all the intellect in the world, he couldn't decipher.

"The Scottish are unlike the British is many ways, but the focal point here is that they are not as…" she spoke slowly as her eyes clashed with his for a millisecond, "…fanatical."

He tore his gaze away from her as he looked towards the ground as they both fell silent, the only sound to be heard the disjointed pattering of footsteps.

Marie suddenly grasped his arm, pulling him to a dead stop in the middle of a corridor that to the neophytic eye, seemed to stretch on indefinitely in either direction.

"Gus, something is troubling you," she began with slight worry etched onto his face. Noticing that he was opening his mouth to emit an automatic response, she cut him off, "Don't you lie to me… I know you too well."

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of Augustus' right eye, his mouth forming a stiff grimace. An internal battle waged within his mind as his eyes glazed over, a minute of silence passing. A steely light returned his eyes as he made a decision. He glanced at her patient and concerned face, and then dramatically exhaled, long, loud, and cathartic.

"I…I have a meeting with Lucius Malfoy this afternoon. He wants me to meet somebody that apparently has something that's 'right up my alley _'_ for me," he hesitatingly disclosed as he broke the tense silence, still feeling her soft hand tightly grasping onto his muscly arm.

"It is imperative that you do not tell anyone about this," he lowly spoke in an undertone, "Malfoy made me perform the Unbreakable Vow to conceal the existence of this meeting."

Marie's eyes widened as she let out a small scream of fright, "Stop talking then, _you could die_!" she shrieked.

Augustus gave a full and mirthful laugh at her frantic distress and used his free hand in an attempt to placate and calm her down.

"Do you really think some upstart member of the languid gentry could upper-hand me in the ways of magic?" he mischievously grinned, causing her to calm down somewhat.

"Not funny," she said crossly as she swatted his shoulder and murmured, "You're sometimes too clever for your own good."

"You just be careful over there," she continued, caution lacing her voice, "I've heard some disturbing rumours within the Department that Lucius had a part to play in his recent father's unfortunate and 'accidental' death."

Still not allowing him to talk, she pushed forward.

"This new supercilious head of house Malfoy is also known to be very… persuasive. Or as I would call him, pernicious," she added with a snort of derision.

Augustus Rookwood, an Unspeakable with a will of iron and limitless ambition, simply chortled in facetiousness.

"At least if I go missing, you'll know where to find me — just search the basement of the Malfoy manor," he joked.

He expected her to roll her eyes in flippancy, but he never expected the cerulean orbs to bore into his own, giving him a sincere and serious look that stirred some unknown emotion within his stone heart.

"I will."

* * *

Ariana slumped against a mossy pillar; it was cold but less so than the crisp autumnal air. Her eyes followed the steady puffs of her breath as they rose and dissipated into the evening sky.

Many years ago, on this very spot, she had been with accompanied by a brother and a sister – bound not by blood, but something stronger – on an adventure that would she would not forget in the unending passage of time.

A soft snort and a gentle nudge on her arm broke her out of her thoughts and reminded her that she was not alone. As she lethargically turned her head to her side, a winged horse that possessed a dark skeletal body came into her view. It had a face with reptilian features and was adorned with wide, leathery wings that resembled a bat's, protruding out from its back.

Murmuring reassurances under her breath to the beast, she slowly outstretched and lowered a gentle hand on its bony head to stroke it. A contented rumble from the creature emanated from within as it leaned into her hand, utterly comfortable from the tenderness the young girl was showing.

"Ah… I see yer've met Calliope," a gruff voice rumbled behind her approvingly.

She gave a small start from the sudden noise, but kept her composure as she withdrew her hand off the horse-like figure and firmly pushed herself off the pillar she was resting on to look up at what seemed to her, a colossal figure.

Rubeus Hagrid towered over her with a bright smile on his young face with a large lantern he held aloft with his left hand that shone out and blended with the soft evening rays.

"She's a lovely gal, ain't she?" he continued cheerfully as he lumbered towards them.

"Hello Hagrid," she merrily sang, her gaiety causing him almost to sing back a greeting in return.

An impatient snort beside her interrupted them and made her turn back to the creature, to stare into dark swirling eyes that shimmered through a cloud of midnight black.

"She seems very lonely," she murmured, unsure if she was talking to the beast or to the reflection that shone back from the beasts glimmering eyes.

"Ah, the Thestrals don't get many visitors since… well…," Hagrid trailed off uncomfortably as he looked to the side, his face losing some of its light-heartedness as he realized the young girl in front of him could see them as well.

Ariana finished off his unfinished sentence in her mind.

… _since you need to witness death to see them._

Hagrid waved his free hand in the air as if to clear the bad thoughts deriving from his previous comment and looked down at the patient first-year with a more serious countenance.

"Ready ter' go?"

They were just outside Hagrid's Hut, just on the border of the encroaching shadows of the Forbidden Forest. After giving a simple nod, they marched off into the darkening and encompassing forest.

Stepping in the forest robbed Ariana of one sense and but heightened the others. It was disorientating to be almost blinded but given the ears of a wolf. Even the soft susurration of the branches felt heavy in the ears. The sense of smell was sensitized; the loam in the earth and the decomposing leaves made the atmosphere close and thick.

She followed Hagrid on a narrow path deep into the forest, which was made uneven by the knotted roots that crossed it, branched at intervals. They were not following a map, but even if there was, the perpetual shadows would prevent one from using it.

Still puzzled as to why she was out here, she played out a recent memory in her head that caused to her to be in this situation.

"… _and we will need to introduce the Patronus Charm into the syllabus for everyone in their third-year and upwards."_

 _Albus raised an eyebrow at the suggestion as he raised his quill off a piece of parchment in front of him, temporarily halting his work._

" _The Patronus is an extremely complex charm for a third-year. I would be skeptical of even the fifth-years performing it consistently," he thoroughly disagreed, putting down the quill and focusing entirely on the person opposite his desk._

" _Even if only one person out of the entire class could cast it, it could save a life – maybe more," Ariana countered as her wide eyes glimmered with emotion._

 _Sensing she had more to say, Albus nodded at her to continue._

" _I… I was taught in secret how to cast it in my third year at Hogwarts… by Professor Lupin," she hesitatingly divulged._

 _Albus' eyes lit up at the information and gave a small smile._

" _So… young Remus accepted a teaching offer here despite his condition. I'm glad he called this place a home," he murmured to himself._

" _Without his help, I would not be sitting before you today. Dementors_ _ **are**_ _a real threat."" Ariana emphasized, pushing past his rambling._

 _Albus was about to proudly extol her ability to cast the spell at such a young age, but then noticed something gravely amiss. Her brilliant green eyes were flecked with too many things a ten-year-old should not be burdened with._

" _Have you performed the Patronus Charm recently?" he questioned suddenly, a furrowed brow marring his once tranquil face._

 _Ariana scrunched up her face as she jogged her memory, "Not since I got here… I think," she replied in uncertainty._

" _Show me," he said simply, his face perfectly blank._

 _Ariana blinked in confusion at the sudden command._

" _Show me," he repeated, steepling his fingers and placing them under his chin._

 _With hesitation on still on her face, she withdrew her wand from her robes and got up from her chair to walk to the centre of Albus' office._

 _Looking back at Albus for reaffirmation, she raised her wand after seeing a nod and took a deep breath, concentrating on the memory of her meeting her parents and Sirius in the afterlife._

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!" she cried._

 _The image of a proud bounding stag that she was so used to was all but now non-existent, as long wispy strands now effused from the tip of her wand instead._

 _Gasping in horror as the spell failed for the first time since she learned how to cast it, she tried again, but this time with more vigour._

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

 _This time the puffs of white mist were less visible than the last._

 _Albus assessed the situation in front of him, eyes narrowing in thought as the young girl tried to cast it over and over again._

 _Ever since he had met Ariana, something had clicked within him. He vowed to never become the master manipulator and puppeteer of the Wizarding World that he was in the not too distant future. It took all the willpower he had to quash thoughts of schemes and ploys that insidiously rose to the surface of his mind. He let out a deep cathartic breath, his heart feeling indescribably lighter._

 _After some deliberation, he raised an arm to calm to her._ _It took a while for Ariana to control herself, her chest still heaving and her face still flushed._

" _Our mind is often our greatest enemy," he sagely commented after a brief pause._

" _I've always been able to cast this spell perfectly," she trembled in renewed anger as she threw her wand down on his desk with force, "I tried all sorts of memories… none worked."_

 _Albus picked up her wand after it rolled to a stop in front of him and twirled it around in his hands before extending his hand out, proffering it back to her._

" _Go with Hagrid into the forest and practice there," he commanded in a gentler tone._

" _Why would-…"_

" _Just go."_

* * *

"…riana… Hullo?" a voice boomed loudly.

Ariana was jerked out of her mind from the noise as a giant gloved hand waved in front of her face, her once glazed eyes infusing with animation as they darted around to assess her surroundings.

Hagrid gave a hearty laugh as he saw her mind return to the physical plane.

"Yer' always off in your own world aren't ya," he grinned.

Leaning inwards, he continued in a mock whisper, "If ya ever want ter talk, my hut always has some of yer favourite hot chocolate when'er yer want it."

Realizing what Hagrid was trying convey, she felt a rush of emotion towards the half-giant as the floodgates of her heart opened and abruptly bounded over and to hug him – or attempt to hug – as far her little arms could go around him.

Hagrid immediately panicked from the unexpected action; physical affection was something the half-giant had not received much within his lifetime of constant ostracism and bullying.

"Ah umm… well, yes… well," he spluttered as he awkwardly patted her back with his massive but gentle hand.

After a moment, a beaming and angelic face looked up at his as she pulled away. Hagrid gave a loud cough as he readjusted the lamp in his hand, his floundering finally coming to an end as he looked at her.

"…I should be goin' off. You'll be safe 'ere," he promised, slightly red in the face. Not waiting for a reply, Hagrid trotted off in haste into the darkness.

As he left, Ariana caught a glimpse of his face; it was a glowing face with a smile that stretched from one ear to another.

 _Oh Hagrid, you have no idea how special you are._

She giggled in fondness of her dear friend and only then finally looked around to properly examine her surroundings.

The sun had finally set but by no means was it dark. The waxing gibbous moon looked pale and wan as it shone down on her, as if it shouldn't be up on a night like this. It rose unwillingly and hung like an ill spectre. Silhouetted against it, dim and hazy through the dampness which rose from the unwholesome forest floor, stood the looming trees.

All of a sudden, Ariana burst out into almost maniacal laughter, the noise echoing and bouncing from one object to another as it resounded through the forest. Muffling her uncontrollable outburst with her hands, she eventually calmed herself down.

 _The Forbidden Forest spans almost 300 acres and yet here I am… the very place where I met Voldemort in my first year._

 _I shouldn't even be surprised anymore._

"Albus must be barmy that out here somehow I will be able to cast the Patronus out here… it has nothing to do with location," she muttered to herself, kicking dark leaves on the ground dispassionately.

Steeling her will, she took out her wand and raised it up to her eye level. Concentrating of the memory when she and Sirius played Quidditch for the first time, she opened her mouth.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

A small inverted shield shimmered into existence for a brief second before devolving into wispy tendrils of smoke, vanishing into the murky night.

" _Why_ is this not working?" she cried out in anger.

Time passed with no sign of the all-familiar ghostly stag, much to the infuriation of the currently belligerent first-year as she cast the spell over and over again.

With a strained gasp, Ariana flopped down beside a fallen log in exhaustion after an hour of trying, leaning with her back against the soft wood in repose. Dark circles had appeared on the pale skin under her eyes from the magical and physical exhaustion.

She didn't even look up when the sound of soft trotting noises that resembled hooves filled the air.

"Mars is bright. I know. Leave me please, I am not in a mood to talk," she snapped.

Realizing what she just blurted out, she temporarily ignored the new visitor and turned towards the log she was leaning on, and hit her head against it in weariness. After a few more thuds, she gave a heaving sigh and finally stood up, turning to the large figure.

"I'm sorry for speaking to you like that, Firenze," she apologised as she shook her head, looking slightly abashed at her uncontrollable outburst, the movement causing black strands of hair to cascade around her face like molten onyx.

The new arrival, a Centaur, looked quite unsure of the bizarre behaviour the human in front of him was exhibiting, but was all the more fascinated by her. For a solid minute, both girl and beast stared at each other in silence, the electric green clashing against astonishingly blue eyes.

"I sense that you have no seer blood in you, but yet your words… carry power," Firenze concluded with a slight pause, breaking the silence.

Firenze looked upwards at the celestial map that the night provided in slight wariness, "Mars is indeed bright," he murmured.

"Mars will only grow brighter," Ariana cryptically responded, her teachings of star auguring from Firenze's time as a professor back in her fifth-year floating to the forefront of her mind.

The Centaur looked highly disturbed as it uneasily shifted its mighty legs around.

"Your words terrify me young one, and I do not know the reason why," Firenze said in slight trepidation.

A sudden rusting in the nearby undergrowth interrupted their conversation and caused Ariana to violently snap her head in the direction of it. Her vision grew dark temporarily as her own body turned against her.

 _Seriously, I should really get this hair thing sorted._ She thought to herself as she spat out some hair from her mouth.

"How do girls tie their hair? Is it a spell? I once heard from Ron that some girls can take thirty minutes to fix up their hair," Ariana muttered to herself, shuddering as she imagined sitting down in front of her mirror to preen herself for that long.

A second Centaur emerged from the bush and into the glade, his stance and demeanour slightly more hostile than the first. Whereas Firenze's skin was pale and possessed startling white-blond hair, the new Centaur's complexion was more of a yellowy hue. It was adorned by a mass of black hair alongside jet-black eyes. Ariana recognized him instantly.

"Hi Bane," she said casually as she lazily raised her hand up and waved, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

Bane's eyes widened and flinched from her greeting, his hoofed legs pawing the ground in discomfort as he urgently looked at Firenze.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed, the veins on his muscly forearms distorting like turgid rivers as they writhed under his skin.

Ariana's face morphed into an affronted look from the venom in his voice, and was just about to reply but was abruptly cut off.

"Bane is more attuned to the wheels of destiny than I am," Firenze interjected, in hopes that it would explain his friend's behaviour.

Ariana cocked her head at the seemingly nonsensical sentence, "Attuned?" she echoed in slight confusion.

The mighty beast nodded back at her.

"The Centaurs are an indigenous and prophetic race that has spanned back for millennia. We consult nature herself to portend the future," he began, the forest seemingly quieting as he spoke.

"We do not just use the stars, but also the wind and the air. We can derive auspices from the observations of both thunder and lightning. It is also us, who had brought this gift to the world of man; to the ancient soothsayers and oracles of the long-forgotten past – and to the sibylline of the tumultuous present."

His eyes then narrowed.

"A gift, that has is being controlled and abused by those at the highest level of the Wizarding hierarchy."

Ariana's eyelids grew half-lidded as she hazily remembered the Hall of Prophecy back her fifth-year, soaking in his deep voice as the rise and fall of the inflections pulled at her senses in more than one direction.

"So tell me then, what do _you_ see in the future," she almost purred, magic stirring ominously deep within in against her will as she swayed on the spot.

The hairs on the back of Bane's neck stood up from the words that were seductively coated in magic, and trembled from its power. Sensing danger in the air, he suddenly charged towards them, leaping in-between the young girl and his ally with an outstretched arm.

" _FIRENZE_ , _DO NOT SPEAK_ ," Bane roared as put his hand over Firenze's mouth, pulling him back while using his own muscly body as a shield, causing a flock of birds that were once slumbering to awaken and take to the skies from the sudden racket.

As if a trance was broken, Firenze and Ariana broke eye contact and blinked owlishly as the stamping of hooves on the soft forest churned up a swirling brown blue of dust.

After a fit of coughing, the miniature vortex of dust in the previously stagnant air dissipated, and all that was left was three individuals breathing heavily in the aftermath, two of them looking highly confused while the other could not stop himself from shaking.

Bane grew cold as he felt the last vestigial flickers of anger disappear. Now it was unadulterated fear; he needed to consult the elders immediately.

"Leave… please," he quavered, his usual stoic countenance missing and replaced with various emotions he was not proud to display.

Ariana's eyes widened as she saw Firenze slumped limp against Bane with his eyes closed, with small amounts of purple foam coming out from his mouth as it twitched sporadically. She cried out in alarm at the sight.

"What is wrong with-"

"He is magically exhausted and is in need of rest," he quickly lied, not making eye contact with her as he stared directly at the motley blend of leaves on the forest floor.

"I will tell Hagrid of your early departure. The school is in that direction... you will be safe on your journey back," he intoned as he pointed to a direction on her right. He then looked up at her directly, staring deep into her eyes for a brief second in what she could have sworn was undying pity.

"Child of Flame, may you enjoy the fullness of life… while you still can."

With that, he put his arm on Firenze's shoulder and steered him into the dark underbrush, quickly lost from sight as the all-consuming forest swallowed them up whole.

Shaking her head in a befuddled manner, she then chewed on the bottom of her lip as she patted her robes to check whether her wand was safely tucked away before leaving.

The earthen path she took stretched wide to her left and right making navigation in the thick of the forest manageable. She soon saw that the path she was on was brightening from the strengthening glow of the moon as she eventually approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. After a few more minutes, she finally emerged from the suffocating bush with as gasp.

She took in a deep breath of the crisp night air and begun smoothing out her robes, tucking some stray hair behind her ear that floating ethereally and shone silver in the moonlight.

"That… was weird," she concluded aloud in finality.

With a shrug, she trundled back up to the gently glowing castle as she played out the events once more in her head one more time.

 _The fullness of life... I wonder what he meant by that._

* * *

A/N: You dears are simply the best! Let me know what you think of the story and see you all in the next chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 15**

Brilliant shafts of golden sunshine effortlessly penetrated through the few wispy clouds in the sky, caressing a carpet of red and gold that surrounded an edifice which thrummed with unseen and seemingly sentient power. The azure sea overhead showed no signs of rain.

It was the perfect weather for Quidditch.

Sirius however, thoroughly disagreed.

"James, mate," he whined as he fell to his knees, hands clasped in a begging action as a giggling audience looked upon the entertaining spectacle, "Can't you play Quidditch some other day?"

Sirius Black, scion of the esteemed and politically feared house of Black, looked quite the curious sight. His angles on his pale face seemed to be cut perfectly as silky black locks that put most of the school's girl population to shame fell past his ears and stopped at his shoulders. His grey eyes weren't monochrome or boring, but bright and metallic, rivaling the most excellently polished suit of armor.

Truly, he was the heart-throb of the school.

"No can do, my dear chap," James replied, his hazel eyes glowing with adoration at his shiny new broom, the Comet Two Sixty, a recent and slightly humiliating gift from his dear mother as a present for not pranking the school on his first day back at Hogwarts.

" _Look_ at this broom, Sirius," he motioned as he waved the handle of the flying apparatus in front of Sirius' face in a hypnotic manner, "Today's the day I test this baby out," he continued in a croon, stroking the brown oak lovingly.

Sirius was having none of it.

"James, my only love, why are you forsaking me in my time of need," he cried dramatically as he clasped onto James' leg in a total lack of shame, causing some of the more scandalous onlookers to immediately blush and fantasize about the most salacious of scenarios.

The gaggle of spectators that stopped by to witness the event was then slightly displaced as an older individual shoved her way through the throng.

" _MR BLACK! MR POTTER!_ What in Merlin's name are the both of you doing," Professor McGonagall exclaimed incredulously as she finally pushed through, gazing upon the pleading face of a sixteen-year-old Sirius as he was ignominiously dragged along by one James Potter.

"Professor, can you please get him off my leg," James grunted as he continued to sluggishly walk towards the Quidditch pitch with one leg significantly heavier than the other, ignoring everything but the forward movement.

Seeing an almost mad light appear in Professor McGonagall's eye as she drew her wand, Sirius gave a frantic yelp and let go immediately, jumping to his feet with as much haste as possible, causing Peter to let out a squeak of surprise.

Almost in a disappointed manner, she tucked her wand back into her robes and looked around at the loitering mass of wizards and witches, staring at them disapproving until they muttered quick apologies and dispersed quickly.

She turned back to the roguish culprits and pursed her lips. As always in her methods of teenage interrogation for this particular quartet, she turned to the most reliable source.

"Mr Lupin, would you kindly enlighten me as to why your housemates were blocking the entrance and causing a ruckus on this fine Saturday morning?" she asked sternly.

Remus carefully put away a book that currently holding into his robes and suddenly flashed a brilliant smile at her, a full smile that was filled with animated life and mischief.

"Professor," he almost sang in response, "James was just going to practice with his new broom in preparation for the upcoming Quidditch match with Slytherin."

His eyes then turned large and beseeching as he clasped his hands, "Surely, you wouldn't want Gryffindor to lose its first match of the year," he implored, his voice full of suppressed laughter.

Receiving neither answer nor comment from anyone after a moment, he realized that he was met with complete silence. His smile slowly turned into a confused frown as he brought his hands down.

"What?"

Professor McGonagall was the first to recover from the stupor, closing her open mouth shut with an audible click as she wiped the expression of stunned surprise off her face.

"Mr Lupin, are you feeling alright?" she delicately asked after a slight pause, the unexpected burst of alacrity catching her off guard.

Remus's frown deepened as he processed the seemingly bizarre scenario he was in, first looking over his body to check for abnormalities, and then looking around in a quizzical manner at the slack-jawed people around him.

"Professor… is something wrong?" he helplessly asked, feeling quite small all of a sudden.

"Remus, you aren't… well…" James began carefully, his hands waving in the air as he struggled to find the right words.

He never got to finish his sentence.

"You're never this cheerful, what up with that," Sirius blurted out, cutting off the young Potter and causing the other members in the conversation to automatically cringe from the lack of sensitivity.

Tact was clearly one of Sirius's weaker attributes.

Professor McGonagall put a palm to her face wearily, "In the name of Merlin, why am I the only one in this castle who is dealing with this ragamuffin," she muttered to herself in resignation

Remus gave a start of surprise and looked downwards at his thin hands in wonder.

"Does it seem that way?" he murmured under his breath, a slow smile spreading over his gaunt features. He looked back up to the expectant faces of four people, Professor included, he truly thought of as family, willing to accept him for what he was without prejudice.

 _Him, the contaminator of delight._

 _Him, the harbinger of misery._

 _Him… the accursed werewolf._

 _Him._

"I-I just feel… lighter," he finally let out in a soft voice after sorting out his thoughts, "I can't describe it."

A thick silence hung in place as they digested his ambiguous words. He then spied someone advancing onto him out of the corner of his eye.

"Not physically, Sirius," he continued with a louder voice in annoyance, his glare turning away an impertinent Sirius, one with mischief in his eyes that attempted to pick him up.

Sirius laughed gaily as he shrugged off the comment and slung his arm around Remus's shoulder in a relaxed fashion.

"Well, whatever it is mate; you're better this way," he chuckled as he poked his close friend's shoulder for emphasis.

A physical shockwave resonated through Remus's body as he trembled slightly with some unknown emotion from the genuine statement. The floodgates of his tired heart slowly grinded opened, rust stripping itself of the entrance as the path opened just an inch wide.

"Thanks, Padfoot," he said quietly, his eyes bright and mysteriously shining as the warm morning sun caused speckles of light to reflect off the glimmering orbs.

James then gave a loud hum after a moment, breaking the somber silence as he scanned the horizon with a hand to his forehead in a mock-survey.

"Say, Peter... I don't think the weather is actually that ideal for Quidditch," he observed with a serious face as he put both hands on his hips with in akimbo, turning towards the short figure beside him.

Peter nodded vigorously in return, "I've also heard that the house-elves in the kitchen have around three whole barrels of leftover potted shrimp," he chimed in strongly, some of his intrinsic squeakiness absent from his voice.

Ever since James had changed at the beginning of the semester, Peter had in turn tried his hardest to change as well.

Sirius widened his eyes, "James, didn't you say you were really looking forward to-"

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes in exasperation at the hopeless guttersnipe and swatted his shoulder, causing him to detach from Remus with a yelp, "Be quiet, Mr Black," she chided.

"Now you lot run along please… unless you would like some detention for annoying your favorite Professor that is," she then informed with mock-sweetness.

Sirius gave her a roguish grin, "You know it Minnie, and you're as beautiful as ever too," he proclaimed with a cheeky wink.

Professor McGonagall did a double take in as she processed the audacious statement. "Why I-I ought to-to…" she spluttered, her face turning slightly red.

"Uh-oh, time to go," James muttered as he began to move, grabbing Peter's arm as he motioned to Sirius and Remus, recognizing the signs of danger from the aforementioned Professor.

Before she could realize it, they were off like the wind, running down the long bridge back to the castle, leaving only dust in their wake.

As they ran away, they heard a faint yell, " _Also, the entrance to the school kitchens is a secret. How did you…"_ and the rest were lost in the wind.

The sun seemed to shine brighter with every passing second.

"Sirius," Remus yelled as they were still running, "Why _did_ you need James's help just now anyway?"

"Does it matter?" Sirius shouted back as he laughed in a carefree manner, his exuberance infectiously spreading to all of them.

As they whirled back down to the castle in unfeigned laughter, dodging annoyed students while they were at it, only then did they realize that it wasn't just Remus who felt a light heart and soul. It was all of them.

Little did they know that they were sworn brothers, bound not in blood – but in spirit. A nigh unbreakable bond they will soon come to learn will never break or weaken, even through the toughest of times and the hardest of trials.

The bond of family.

* * *

Ariana's nose was itching.

 _Don't scratch it._

Now her nose was _really_ itching.

She was in absolute stillness, every muscle and fiber in her body pulled taut. She was even afraid to blink as she held her breath, her last reserve of air fueling her as efficiency as possible as her body recognized that no more was entering her lungs. It was eerie sort of tranquillity, as if the world were encased in a cocoon, a bubble, and with no way out.

She strained her ears as she dared to move her head slightly to the side. Hearing the pitter-patter of footsteps gradually disappear around the corner, life was once again restored as she sucked in cool air back into her body in big gulps, her rapidly beating heart finally slowing down. She almost let out a moan of pleasure as she scratched her nose in relief.

Today, she was stalking her mother.

Ariana peered around the corner as she watched Lily and another familiar looking girl enter the Hogwarts Library, both of them carrying magically expanded bags.

"Amazing; I can sense the magic on the bags even from all the way here," she muttered to herself as she crept up the entrance of the Library, her consistent trips to the Room of Requirement had been slowly but surely strengthening her ability to see magic, among other… abilities.

Her eyes roved over the occupants in the Library as she peeked in, and after assuring herself that the coast was clear, slowly tip-toed in with as much stealth as possible.

Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outwards greeted her, and those were in turn were in rows of neatly lined up bookshelves. Wooden tables and benches were interspersed throughout the Library, nestling in-between bookshelves and giving the room purpose.

She spied a mass of fiery hair just slip around a corner at the far side of the room and duly made her way it, attracted to the moving sea of red like how a moth was inexorably drawn to flame.

After she sneakily positioned herself on the other side of the bookshelf where her targets were situated, she quickly grabbed a random book from one of the shelves and quickly opened it up, not caring what page she was on as she buried her face in it.

As the older girls excitedly chatted away about everything and anything, Ariana gave a sigh of happiness and closed her eyes as she propped the book against her face, content with just listening to the soothing voice of her mother, the mellifluous highs and lows lulling her into a state of serenity.

Lily Evans on the other hand, was far from such a peaceful state at this specific point in time.

"Alice, are you even listening?" Lily reprimanded as she lightly whacked her friend on the head with rolled up parchment, halfway through a particularly onerous journal that lengthily described the twelve uses of dragon blood.

Alice rolled her eyes as she swatted the offending article away from her head, "Lily, you're my favorite person in the whole world, but why are we studying this hard on the second week back at Hogwarts?" she whined, clearly wanting no part in this.

She had soft features all round, from her facial structure right down to her curls of her short blonde hair. She groaned out loud when she saw Lily's face morph into something that Hermione would sometimes adorn, much to the amusement of a spying first-year.

"For our upcoming NEWTs of course," Lily answered, looking at Alice incredulously as if she had grown a pair of Hippogriff wings, "If I recall correctly, you mentioned many times to me that you wanted to become an Auror."

"Stop it Lils, you're starting to sound like Professor McGonagall," Alice moaned, and then widened her eyes in shock as she realized what Lily had just said, "Wait… the NEWTs are in the seventh year, w-we're only in our sixth!' she spluttered, aghast as her brain finally put two and two together.

"Exactly," Lily grinned evilly, her eyes alight with the burning desire for knowledge.

Alice opened her mouth to refute the smartest girl in her year, but knew that whatever she said would only backfire horribly against her, so she closed it with a snap and simply rubbed her temples instead. She came to a decision after a brief moment of intense thought, weighing the pros and cons in her mind.

"Fine, let's study then," Alice heavily sighed as she finally acquiesced, reluctantly bringing out her own parchment and quills from her bag onto the wooden table, causing Lily's face to light up with satisfaction at the decision.

"You're crazy, you do know that right?" Alice continued wearily as she used her wand to summon a couple of thick and dusty tomes onto the table.

"Yup, but you love me anyway," Lily teased, smirking in victory at her best friend as they begun setting out a draft of what they would study first, jotting down topics in a sequential order that closely followed the sixth and seventh-year syllabus.

Lily could have sworn she heard the faint sound of giggling behind her. Turning around in curiosity, she spied someone through a gap in the books, probably a first or second-year judging from the height, whose face was hidden by a book, titled " _The_ _Animagus_ _Process and its Physical Applications"_.

Her brief distraction was cut short by the sound of a disgruntled cough behind her.

"Excuse me young ladies, if you can't contain your volume then you shall have to leave," came an irritated and nasally voice, belonging to the aged librarian, a bibliophile who enjoyed nothing more than some but peace and quiet.

They both hastily apologised to the decrepit old lady, temporarily forgetting that they were in a library and lowered their tone forthwith, now properly focused and ready to learn.

An hour quickly elapsed as the lazy Saturday morning finally picked up pace, the sun rising higher into the pale blue sky with each passing moment, the propitious weather welcomed by most of the populous in the enormous castle.

Alice had hit a brick wall and had been stuck on a particular train of thought for quite some time. Still puzzled, even after she tried to approach the problem from numerous angles, she decided to consult the knowledgeable girl beside her.

She softly nudged Lily, causing the red-headed girl to jump slightly as her concentration on the book in front of her was broken, "Lils, why are there different types of Animagus forms within the same animal species?" she asked in a quiet whisper.

Lily's brow furrowed in confusion at the wording of the question, "What do you mean?" she whispered back.

"Well, let say if two Animagi could transform into a hyena, what are the factors that will separate their physical appearance? For example, one could be spotted while the other could be striped," Alice clarified, her voice now in an undertone.

Lily scrunched her face up in silent thought as she thought hard about the intriguing question.

"I'm sorry, I didn't research into that section hard enough when I was going over it," she confessed with an apology after a brief moment, slightly disappointed at own herself for not knowing.

Her eyes brightened as she remembered something. She cupped a hand over her mouth and leaned over to Alice.

"The person on the other side of the bookshelf behind us was reading the exact book we need. Hopefully he or she still has it," she murmured softly.

Relief flooded Alice's eyes as she nodded in thanks and got up, desperate to find the answer to a question that had been plaguing her for quite some time.

Ariana on the other hand, had all but forgotten that she was currently stalking someone and had instantly fell in love with the book that she had randomly chosen, an especially challenging and stimulating read on how one transformed into an animal through the sheer power of will, and magic of course.

As she was devouring the fascinating contents on how magic morphed physical organisms, she couldn't help but feel that she was being watched, maybe not her, but perhaps someone nearby. Irrationally, she dismissed those feelings as she refocused back onto her readings.

On the cusp of reaching the last chapter in the colossal six-hundred-page book in merely an hour, she saw movement out the corner of her eyes and suddenly froze in terror as the gentle face of Lily's study partner met hers.

Curiosity, as always, overtook her fear temporarily, as she quickly gave the new arrival a once over with her eyes, feeling an all-familiar tug at her heart as she analysed her. All sounds were dulled as her mind raced with terrifying speed and came to a conclusion, realizing with a jolt that this particular girl was someone who mattered to her.

 _Alice Longbottom._ She thought with wide eyes.

 _I've only ever seen her once before at St. Mungo's, with her eyes vacant, her voice feeble, and her mind… broken._

In contrast, Alice's eyes were currently bright, her voice strong, and her mind bursting with potential, ready to take the world on with all her might.

It was then, when something finally clicked in Ariana's mind, after the long period of time where she was trying her utmost to sort out what role should she play in this new world of hers.

She realized that, on the contrary, there was no role to play, because this was not a tale where her ending had been foretold in the stars, this was not a story where her tale had been intricately carved in stone, or even where her choices were lovingly woven in tapestry.

She thought back to her old life, where she recalled Mad-Eye Moody telling her about all the unspeakable horrors and loss of life in the First Wizarding War. If she continued her role as a player in the shadows, like a fool, hoping for history to repeat itself, she would be condemning good men and women to their deaths, as they fought teeth and nail for a cause… that amounted to nothing.

She took a deep breath, her heart, mind, soul and magic humming as they came to a unifying consensus. She suddenly felt the pervading fog that had been clouding all her senses since the very first day she came here, vanish into nothingness, as if her body has sudden been freed from constricting shackles that had weighed down on every thought and action.

She felt indescribably unburdened as the mist on her eyes cleared, as if she could take the whole world, and take it once again. Her gaze settled on the young and innocent face of the sixth-year in front of her, a face that was would one day make her own unique mark on this ever-changing world.

 _There was too much suffering in the past._

 _This all changes…_

… _now._

"Hello, how can I help you?" she suddenly burst out with a stunning smile, her already bright green eyes glowing brighter, her pale skin flushed with colour, and her onyx hair dancing and curling around her face from a gentle breeze that only seemed to affect her.

The entire thought process took only a couple of seconds, but to her it seemed like hours.

Alice raised an eyebrow in amusement at the chipper voice, resisting a very powerful urge to whisk away the pretty young girl in front of her and dress her up with a million different dresses.

"Hi there, I'm Alice, and I was wondering if I could borrow your book for a brief moment to check something," she requested as she briefly introduced herself with a very maternal look on her face.

While she was talking, Ariana shook her robe and grasped her wand as it fell onto her palm from her sleeve, quietly casting a soft _Muffliato_ under her breath to ensure their conversation didn't reach the ears of anyone, with the librarian mainly in mind.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Ariana," she politely reciprocated, pushing her wand back stealthily up the folds of her robe after she was done with it.

"This question of yours, could I know what it is?" she continued with enthusiasm, "I've almost read the entire book, and could surely help you in one way or another."

Alice nodded in simple agreement and repeated what she had previously said to Lily.

Ariana tapped her chin with a slender finger as she donned a serious face, chewing her lip as she thought hard about the question.

"Well, the standard thinking is that characteristics in the human form are passed onto the their animal counterparts as physical features," she began slowly, "However, I think that visual variations like aposematic colouration, countershading and such, stem from an increased level of magic," she continued, her articulate diction and expansive lexicon astonishing the sixth-year.

Her eyes lit up as she ploughed onwards, "Viviparous animals also seem to differ from oviparous ones, from my own inference of course. For example, if you were to transform in a banded krait, the markings are-"

Alice suddenly held up her hands, cutting Ariana off as she finally knew what was wrong with the situation.

"Hold on, this is sixth-year material… you're only a first-year," she interrupted with a gasp, her eyes almost popping out of her head, the little curls of her blonde hair bouncing in place as she recognised what year Ariana was in from her red robes.

"…yes?" Ariana replied in slight confusion, her head tilting at the currently flummoxed witch, so heavily invested into explaining her profusion of thoughts that she forgot that she was mentally years ahead for her age.

Alice put her hands the sides of her head in disbelief from the reaction and swayed on the spot, "Great, another genius in Gryffindor that will make me look like I don't know anything," she whined, her transparent jesting causing the younger girl to giggle at the display.

A new voice suddenly joined in the conversation, causing Ariana to automatically sit upright in a grip of silent panic, her heart racing as her pupils dilated.

"Alice, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" Lily grumbled, massaging her ears gently as she rounded the corner, "There is this constant buzzing in my ears."

As she approached the table, the pained look on her face disappeared and she hesitatingly lowered her hands, "Hold that thought – the buzzing is gone," she continued quizzically, forgoing even an introduction as she looked around for an answer.

Ariana took an audible gulp as she mentally slapped herself.

 _Okay, is there a particular reason why you are terrified of talking to Lily?_ She questioned herself, unable to pin-point why she was constantly feeling like this around her mother.

Insidious thoughts that didn't seem to be hers rose to the forefront of her mind, darkening her mood as they spread their poison.

 _Are you afraid that she won't love you? Are you afraid that she won't act how James does? Are you-_

The voices abruptly vanished, her face sliding into an emotionless mask as her meagre training in Occlumency was sufficient enough to wipe away all traces of the whispering voices.

Pulling out her wand discreetly once more, she murmured the counter-charm to the silencing spell that caused a buzzing in the ears of anyone nearby, causing strands of green magic that hung in the air, which she was sure, only she could see, to fade away into nothingness.

Alice looked around the area in uncertainty before looking at Lily.

"No clue what you are talking about Lily," she said in a worried voice, hoping that her friend hadn't come down with some sort of illness, "We've been perfectly fine… isn't that right Ariana?" she added as she turned her head towards the first-year in affirmation.

Lily's face snapped upwards as Alice reminded her that they weren't alone, her eyes narrowing in thought as she took in the new girl's appearance.

Lily Evans had a kind of understated beauty, perhaps because it was it was easily overlooked, as she wasn't covered in excessive makeup or adorned with jewelleries and trinkets. She was all about simplicity, the inner beauty that lit in her eyes and softened her features. When she smiled and laughed, one couldn't help but smile along too, even if it was just on the inside.

"Your eyes," Lily breathed in astonishment as she gazed upon them, her own sea green eyes meeting electrifying eyes of the same color, causing her to tingle from the unusual intensity of the gaze.

As they gazed into each other eyes, true to what the voices had just foretold, Ariana saw no love in her mother's eyes, only polite curiosity… and nothing else. She struggled to contain her emotions as she gripped tightly on her chair.

 _Of course she's acting like that you fool, she only just met you._ She thought to herself tensely, the obvious justification calming her down somewhat.

She knew she was being foolish and selfish at the moment, but she couldn't help herself — she was only human.

She forced a smile onto her face as she stood up, "I'm Ariana Peverell" she simply introduced herself, thrusting out a hand.

"Lily Evans, nice to meet you," Lily responded as she amiably reached for her hand.

Time seemed to come to a complete stop when their hands touched, each girl gasping as they felt an explosion of magic deep within their hearts, the souls crying out and harmonizing as one. As their hands separated from the shock, both of their fingers inexplicably tried to grasp for the each other's, each one hoping for just one more second of contact.

It seemed that space and time in all their physical and temporal might, could not sever the bond between mother and child.

Ariana stumbled slightly as she felt tears prickle the corner of her eyes, a flashback of a memory fully occupying her vision, the Library all but absent from her sight.

 _Lily was tendering looking down at him at the train station, their hands interlocked in an unbreakable clasp._

" _We will meet again soon enough, you'll see. We will always love you, remember that Harry."_

For all her bravado and newfound courage she displayed, Ariana had finally reached her limit.

Clutching her wrist in pain as her silver bracelet seemed to set her arm on fire, she simply ran, ignoring the cries of the older girls and the librarian as she flew out of the library and through the castle, randomly stumbling into an empty classroom after a while and locking the door behind her. She fell to the floor, sobbing her heart out in happiness – or sadness – she could not tell.

It was a while before her shoulders stopped shaking and her small form stopped quivering.

"You were right all along, Mum," she whispered in a quavering voice, sniffling as she wiped her eyes with her sleeves.

Drying the last few droplets of water from her reddened face with her hands, she brought her strangely numb wrist up to her face, meaning to heal the burn from her life-saving bracelet.

"What in the-" she blurted out incredulously, starting in surprise as she saw only clean pale skin, as if there was no previous damage at all.

 _This is the second time now my wrist has healed on its own… what is happening to me?_

She let out a watery chuckle as she let her arm flop tiredly back onto the floor with a muted clink, her lustrous hair sprawled in every direction on the cold stone.

 _Honestly, I don't even care anymore._

Giving a large sigh as she felt her muscles all burned out in more ways than one; she collected herself up off the floor and began smoothing out her robes. However, the persistent wrinkles and creases created from her outburst were almost impossible to straighten by hand and forced her to give up, opting out from the orderly look she always tried to display.

Her eyes then hardened slightly, and then softened slightly, as she thought about her next move.

 _I think it's time to properly meet the Marauders._

Nodding to herself with renewed energy, she looked around the empty classroom one more time just to be sure that she was indeed alone, and then turned towards the door, turning a large lock that held the door in place.

Opening the door, instead of the normal white light from the sun greeting her, an inky blackness instead suddenly covered her vision, causing her to scream in surprise.

Her cries were cut short as her voice was muted with a spell. She was roughly pushed back in, hearing another person enter the classroom as well and lock the door behind him or her.

"That spell that you cast in the Library," a low and dangerous voice immediately growled in her ear, "Where did you learn of it?" it continued as it released the spell that bound her throat, waiting for a reply.

Although the voice was magically distorted, it was obvious that it belonged to a male. She stopped floundering and stood completely still in concentration, not in the least intimidated from her current the lack of sight.

She focused intensely and then gasped in wonder as she suddenly saw the world through a black veil instead of the total darkness, her own magic untangling the invisible strands of magic around her eyes.

She could feel the other person recoil in shock as she stared straight into his shadowy face, her vision able to understand, extrapolate, and interpolate the magic that sought obscure her vision in her eye sockets. Unfortunately, she could not discern the details of her attacker, only that he was tall and had sharp cheekbones.

"It is a spell that I recently learned on my own," she calmly replied in honesty, looking away from his face as she looked around in wonder at the classroom with her new eyesight.

The figure seemed unnerved at her composure and writhed with anger at the response.

"Liar," it spat, the voice that was full of venom sounding oddly familiar.

Only then did Ariana recall when she had learned that particular spell. It was written in a book that she was deeply invested in before she died; a simple Potions book on that only had one sentence that really stuck out in her mind.

 _This Book is the Property of…_

She widened her eyes in shock as she whirled around to face her interrogator, her mind finally connecting and unifying the voice and familiar facial structure to a person she was extremely familiar with.

… _the Half-Blood Prince._


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 16**

Ariana was confident: to begin with. There was no doubt about that.

Tapping her foot in displeasure, she crossed her arms as she looked directly at the shadowy figure expectantly, "Severus Snape, remove this jinx at once," she said mildly, waving a hand in the air in a poised and dignified manner.

Severus jerked back in shock, inhaling sharply as he registered that the mysterious girl knew who he was, even through the magic that was meant to disguise and safeguard him. Gripping his wand tightly as he knew the jig was up, he muttered something inaudible under his breath, thrusting his wand upwards sharply, causing a sliver of pleasure to run through Ariana as he obediently followed her command.

The world was once more restored to its pale form, the darkened daylight pushed back at the edges of light, reclaiming the colours of day that had been washed into black from the unusual and original jinx. The world came back like a freshly developed photograph, every colour bright and new.

Ariana blinked as she rubbed her eyes in slight discomfort, the sudden change in luminance causing her spell-induced mydriasis to slowly abate.

She then looked up into the face of a young Severus Snape, an extremely pale and angular face that seemed to perfectly resemble the older version she had of him in her memories. His black hair was draped all the way down to his collarbone, the unusual sheen obviously stemming from countless hours of standing over a cauldron.

The sneer that presently adorned his face however, was still ever the same, as he pointed his wand at her.

"Who are you," he asked in a deadpan voice, distrust lacing his words as his black eyes smouldered and sought hers.

Ariana instantly noticed something wrong about this version of Snape. His current countenance was not constantly in a state of indifference or aloofness as she once remembered, but rather pulled tight over a thin veil of anger. His eyes seemingly revealed nothing at a first glance, but a closer look showed an internal battle that was constantly raging within, the stormy orbs billowing with suppressed emotion.

He clearly was not a master of Occlumency… yet.

"That was quite the ingenious jinx, Severus," she animatedly extolled as she suddenly clapped her hands, "Preventing light from entering the eyes whilst simultaneously distorting sounds that cross over a certain threshold, very creative indeed."

Severus warily eyed the jubilant girl in front of him; his guard lowering slightly as curiously overtook him.

"How… how did you know?" he hesitatingly asked, his wand now dropping to his side, no longer pointing at her.

Ariana laughed in a carefree manner, "Oh, I can see magic… sort of," she truthfully responded as she shrugged, unsure why she was so candid around a man – or boy, in this case – she had learned to hate during her time at Hogwarts.

Albus' voice hazily floated to the front of her mind from her past life, uttering an unforgettable line that seemed to wedge itself deeply in corners her mind.

" _I would trust Severus with my life."_

The said teenager let out a derisive snort at her seemingly ludicrous statement, "I highly doubt that," he scoffed, "Only a powerful wizard or witch can accomplish such a feat."

Ariana's eyes then turned large and innocent as she looked up at him in an angelic gaze.

"Is that so, Severus? I guess that means I won't be able to do-" she breathed, "- _this_ ," her voice twisting into guttural snarl at the last word as she whipped out her wand and pointed it at a chair beside them.

" _Invorto!"_

She shivered in perverse delight as a dark purple spell erupted from the tip of her wand and slammed into the wooden chair with vicious force. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then slowly, the grain inside the wood begun pouring out holes that ubiquitously appeared on the timber as it distorted, a morbid display as the chair literally turned itself out.

The event was too quick for even Severus to react to. Something flashed beneath the surface of his blank expression. It was too fleeting however, for Ariana to catch what it was.

His eyes then narrowed in calculation as he stared at the disfigured chair, "Such powerful dark magic for a kid…" he slowly muttered, "…and for a Gryffindor," he added with disdain, noticing the red highlights on her robes. He then looked up at face of the beaming child, an unsettling juxtaposition beside the abused chair.

"Who… are you?" he repeated carefully once more, this time in extreme caution.

When she stayed silent, he then frowned as he looked over her clothes quickly, looking for crests or insignias that would associate her with a Pure-blood family. He looked up with a snort after he finished inspecting her, finding nothing recognisable.

"A Half-blood, I presume?" he intoned, a flicker of self-loathing appearing on his face for a split second.

"Suppose I told you I was a Muggle-born… what then Severus?" Ariana coolly responded as she brought her hands up to her face, inspecting her nails in a nonchalant manner.

"Stop saying my name like that," Severus snapped, the tone of familiarity thoroughly disconcerting him.

Ariana ignored his outburst as she continued to play with her nails.

"All Muggles and the scum spawned from them should die…," Ariana sang in a disturbingly cheerful voice, tilting her head as she looked up at him, "…don't you agree?"

Severus' face grew perfectly blank once again as he gave a stiff nod, fresh memories of his abusive Muggle father rising up and filling his mind.

"Even… Lily?"

His eyes flashed red as his façade finally crashed downwards, gritting his teeth in fury at the two words, "Shut up," he growled, gripping his wand tighter.

Ariana said nothing as he stared balefully at her, only then realizing that her scintillating eyes perfectly matched the ones in the girl he loved most, above all else.

"You know nothing about me," he snarled in extreme agitation, the continued silence deeply unnerving him.

As he stared hatefully at the enigmatic girl, he saw only peace and understanding residing in the deep green eyes. Eyes which seemed to draw out words that he had kept locked within himself for – to him – felt like the longest period of time.

"I…I called her a Mudblood," he whispered as he closed his eyes in bitter regret, clenching his fists hard enough to draw blood, confused as to why he was telling a stranger this, "There is no going back."

"There is _always_ a way back," Ariana murmured softly, her lilting voice caressing him and causing his wanton anger to dissipate and fade away into nothingness. She pushed forward unwaveringly.

"I can see the cruel pain that keeps you awake every night, the unjust suffering that makes you trust no one, and the constant torment from your household, your schoolmates… and your housemates."

Severus' eyes widened in panic as his mind twisted with confusion, wondering how this person knew his deepest and darkest secrets. She would not let him speak as she continued.

"Instead of letting the pain turn into anger, turn it into a weapon, a weapon that only the mightiest of men are capable of wielding."

It took a brief second for Severus's mind to processes what she was saying, "Pain… i-into… what?" he asked stammered.

Ariana gave a tired smile that seemed to show her own heavy burdens, and said just one word through the stillness of the day.

" _Purpose_."

Severus shivered from the fierce conviction in her voice then asked once again, his face showing one who feared to lose everything, "Who are you?"

She denied him for the third time that morning, and reached up with tip-toes to place one hand on his cold, trembling cheek, "You still have time to choose a side, Severus," she said powerfully, staring straight into his eyes as his mouth grew tight.

"Just remember this, time is not measured by clocks, but by moments instead," she continued in a murmur.

Severus forced his eyes away from her penetrating stare after a minute of silence.

"I…I have go," his voice no longer curt nor reserved, but small and vulnerable. He looked into her burning eyes one last time before roughly shoving her away from him and bolting out the classroom with as much haste as he could possibly muster.

Ariana stabilised herself from the forceful push as the door slammed shut once more, leaving her the only one in the desolate classroom. She silently thanked her newly acquired eidetic memory, recalling perfectly the contents of Snape's mind when she glimpsed into it after their Occulumency training had gone awry in her fifth-year.

 _Snape was one person that needed saving. Not from other people… but from himself._

She gave a tired sigh and sank down to the stone floor, sorrowfully hugging her thin knees as she placed her head sideways on them.

Her performance had been perfect.

Truly, if she had been sorted into Slytherin, she would have been capable of great things.

Terrible, yes, but great.

* * *

The dimly lit classroom lit up in a radiant glow from a sudden flash of red, roaring and leaping flames dancing brilliantly into life as something shimmered into existence out of thin air, heralding one of the most ancient beings in the world.

The distinguished creature had barely time to react as a young girl lunged at it with open arms.

Ariana had an almost feral look as she latched on to it with both hands, "Hello Fawkes, you're really cuddly for a bird, did anyone ever tell you that?" she brightly remarked, promptly burying her face into its soft feathers and causing it to squawk in minor annoyance at the action.

She would always feel a strange feeling of peace the closer she was to Fawkes.

After they had calmed down, Fawkes trilled softly in her ear, a musical medley that skimmed across a few octaves in a mere second. To a bystander, the sounds that the resplendent bird made would make not even a modicum of sense, but to Ariana, she understood it perfectly, inexplicably of course, as all things were in her current state of life.

She nodded at the phoenix in response and held on tighter to his fiery wing, all wreathed in a consuming flame that produced neither smoke nor consumed oxygen as it protected her.

They then disappeared with a flash; the only evidence that they were previous there were the dying embers that slowly snuffed out on the cold stone floor, one by one.

The duo reappeared in Albus' office.

Fawkes immediately detached itself from Ariana as it shook its wings urgently, flying up high before landing on its perch, looking at her one last time before disintegrating in a majestic and controlled firestorm.

"Time passes quickly," a voice called out from above her, "I did not realize it was Fawkes' burning day already."

She whipped her heads upwards gave a small smile, "Hi Al."

Albus' face secretly lit up from the nickname as his eyes began twinkling, and made his way down from his lofty bookshelves to stand by the young witch.

Albus noticed where her gaze rested upon, "As flame rises, so does it fade. Such is the way of things," he solemnly and cryptically uttered.

Ariana picked up some of the black cinder in her hand, feeling the fine grains slip through her slender fingers as gravity gently pulled it back to the bowl, "Soot and ashes tell no story," she murmured, "but this is a cycle that has no ending."

"Does it ever tire from this cursed existence of immortality?" she asked as she looked back up at him, referring to their mutual and feathery companion.

Albus gave a small shrug as he readjusted his half-moon spectacles to look at her, "Probably no less than you or me, my dear."

"It is often said that phoenixes lose some of their memories after they are reborn, so that they can experience the world anew each time. Of course, I always thought this to be utter hogwash," he said with a little chuckle.

Ariana turned back to the pile of ash as it finally started to move, a tiny curved beak slowly appearing through the fine particles. As the rest of its body struggled to get out, it let out a high-pitched chirp, a cry that tugged on her heartstrings as it filled the air.

She looked frantically back at her Headmaster, shocked that she had missed this previously, "Why is Fawkes crying out in pain? Are the ashes hurting it?" she breathlessly asked, with worry in her eyes.

"It is extremely painful…" Albus informed with slight sadness in his eyes, "…but then again, so is birth," he sagely added.

The both of them then silently watched the hatchling until it fully emerged from the cinder.

Realizing that he had delayed the point of their meeting for far too long, he hurriedly gestured for Ariana to sit while he rummaged through the folders in his desk, rifling through documents and records until he came across what he was looking for.

He then tossed a framed picture in front of her, and carefully watched for her reaction.

"Do you recognize these people?" he straightforwardly asked, a faint tenseness causing his brow to furrow.

Ariana picked up the portrait, a still image rather than animated one – a rarity in the Wizarding world – and scrutinized it closely, bringing it right up to her face as she tried to discern the faces in it.

"Sorry, not a clue," she responded after small moment as she shook her head, putting down the photograph of a man and woman that stood lovingly side by side.

Her frank answer caused Albus to give a sigh of relief as he slumped down onto his own chair, causing the young witch to look at him with worry.

"Ariana, these people… are your parents," he began slowly, still in his slouched position.

Ariana immediately opened her mouth in refutation but was cut off as he calmly raised his hand to stop her, "Please, let me finish."

Her mouth closed with a snap at the command, her wide eyes showing only a fullness of trust in him.

Albus leaned forwards and steepled his fingers, placing them on his brow ridge as he struggled to find a way to start.

"After you requested for me to help shield you from the Ministry a while back, I did some research of my own, clandestinely of course, and found some disturbing things in the process," he began.

He pushed the photograph towards her for emphasis.

"Ariana listen carefully, these two people _do not exist."_

"Someone planted this file deep within the Ministry archives a day before the Department of Mysteries took interest in your case. The story mentions that these two people were both killed at the hands of Death Eaters."

"I personally visited the scene of their purported murder and found traces of your magical essence scattered around their 'bodies'. It was painfully convincing though, as it took me a while before I could notice the hidden inconsistencies."

His face grew tight.

"This means, there is someone out there who has knowledge of your existence, for some reason is trying to give you a credible backstory, is trying to frame the Death Eaters, had access to you while you were being treated, and also has access to the internal Ministry registry," he listed with his fingers.

"Not to mention, he or she had the skill to fool an entire division," he gravely added as an afterthought.

Ariana's eyes bulged at the extensive list.

"Why would anyone help me?" she whispered in extreme paranoia, her eyes straying occasionally to the empty portraits that hung around Albus' office, "No one apart from you knows the real reason why I am here."

Albus' eyes grew dark as he realized he had overlooked that fact. Getting up, he paced back and forth as his ancient brain conjured up one bizarre theory after another.

"There were the multiple Healers from St. Mungo's which came to put you on the road to recovery, all of them I made sure were trustworthy," he muttered, mostly to himself, "Then comes the people in the castle… no, that's impossible…"

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, one of the most intelligent wizards that currently walked the planet, was stumped. He sat back down and stared at the young witch in seriousness as he whipped out his weirdly shaped wand.

"Ariana, I swear on my magic that I have not told a single soul about your real identity," he chanted as he raised wand, too quick for Ariana to even react to.

As he uttered words that were infused with magic, a faint but powerful shimmer surrounded him, bathing him in a soft golden glow as his magic confirmed his truthful proclamation.

Ariana's eyes widened as her hands waved animatedly in the air at the unexpected action, "A-Albus there is no reason to do that," she cried out in panic as her arms flailed widely, "I trust you."

Albus put down his Elder Wand on his table with a sigh from the reply, his wizened hand caressing over the knobbly bumps on the wand once over as he looked at it in what looked like remorse and shame.

"You shouldn't," Albus quietly replied with downcast eyes, so soft that she could barely hear his words, "You don't know what kind of person I really am."

Ariana's eyes softened as she got up and walked around his desk to put a small hand on his shoulder.

"The past is already gone; the future is not yet here. There's only one moment for you to live, and that is the present," she said in seriousness, her face aglow with intensity.

Albus drew back in surprise and gave a hum in agreement after a second of thought, his own hand coming up to cover hers tenderly.

" _Seek the wisdom of the ages, but look at the world through the eyes of a child_ ," he quoted to himself as his own eyes turned skyward, the vestigial traces of bitter and scheming thoughts gradually leaving his mind, the stains of his past sins absolving slowly from his soul as his heart grew lighter with each passing second.

He gave a small chuckle as he patted her hand in silent gratefulness, lost in thought.

As he looked at the currently talking witch, all sounds were muted as his vision flashed between the animated grin of the young witch in front of him, to the echo of a radiant smile that his dear sister always used to wear.

His sight then grew hazy as his mind muddled them both into one overlapping image, his mind unable to tell them apart as the single picture sent waves of raw guilt undulating through him.

 _Ariana, you forgive me... right?_

* * *

A bead of sweat meandered down James' forehead as his florid face twisted in concentration, his hand starting to vibrate uncontrollably as he struggled to pour forth more magic into his wand. Sensing that he was soon reaching his limit, he abruptly cut off his flow of magic and fell backwards with an exhausted gasp, crashing into three eagerly waiting people behind him, truly causing a cacophony.

"Oi, mate," came the disgruntled and muffled cry from Sirius amongst the racket, squashed rather unceremoniously under three rather heavy teenagers.

They were in a storage room in the Hogwarts kitchens and, needless to say, were right smack in the middle of preparing a prank of epic proportions.

An amalgamation of rich aromas wafted down from shelves, fully stocked with magically-preserved food for the next day, the plethora of vibrant-looking edibles delighting and almost overwhelming the senses.

Sirius then untangled himself from the human pile and leapt up impatiently, his eyes scanning over the high columns and rows of food that were stacked neatly on top of and beside each other.

He whirled back to James, "Well, are they all done?" he breathlessly asked, anticipating tingling in bones.

James' visage flashed a pained look temporarily as he struggled to stand up, "All done," he said proudly as he got on his two feet, "When the school consumes this food tomorrow morning, be sure to know that they'll be in for a good time."

Remus leapt agilely to his feet, bouncing up from the floor energetically, "You've kept this quite a mystery Prongs, do tell us," he requested, lightly nudging the spectacled teenager.

James characteristically ran his hand through his untameable mop of hair in a futile attempt to flatten it as he took a deep breath, "Moony my dear fellow, it goes like this. For the Slytherins, the hair on their head will transfigure into a bed of snakes; for the Ravenclaws, they will start to sprout feathers all over their body."

"For the Hufflepuffs, they will start to grow striped fur on their body that resembles a badger; and lastly, for our dear house, we'll all begin to sprout the most magnificent of manes," he finished, an ear-splitting grin his face as he motioned to his face to stroke an invisible mane.

"The spell will only last for a day…" he added with a thoughtful look on his face as he tilted his head, "…I think?"

Remus raised an eyebrow at the last few statements, "You did know that only the male lions have manes, right?" he mirthfully asked.

"O-Of course," James replied with an affronted look, beginning to then sulkily mutter under his breath as he crossed his arms, shooting childish death glares at Remus that caused Sirius and Peter to howl in laughter.

Peter only then noticed something amiss that the others didn't pick up as they were chortling away.

"James, are you alright?" he asked slowly in a serious tone after the laughter had died now, noticing that the hazel-eyed boy was trembling slightly.

James forced out fake laugh as he puffed out his chest, "The epitome of health, right here," he boasted, pounding his chest for emphasis.

Realizing that he wasn't fooling anyone from the silence that met him, he slowly reached down and picked up his eleven-inch mahogany wand from the kitchen floor, rolling it around in his hands as he looked at it carefully. He then looked around the room warily in an owl-like fashion, to reaffirm that they were still the only ones in the room.

"It's been… difficult to cast magic of late," he hesitatingly began, seemingly ashamed to disclose such a secret as the scion of an illustrious Pure-blood family.

"Have you been Madam Pomfrey?" Remus immediately responded, knowing that the middle-aged witch possessed near-legendary restorative abilities that could cure almost anything.

"I went there a couple of days ago… she said it was probably because I was tired or something," James quickly dismissed as he waved a hand in the air, knowing his body and magical core more than anyone else.

Sirius gave a grunt and pulled out his wand as he walked over to James, casting a quick _Lumos_ and shoving it into his face to look at his pupils, also checking for the hidden signs of magical exhaustion.

"What sort of difficulties? Sluggish response of magic? Easily fatigued after simple spell? Spells take on unintentional side-effects?" Sirius interrogated, one question after another with no trace of humour in his voice, clearly experienced in this particular field.

"The second one, Pads. Simple spells have become toilsome to cast," James sighed wearily, waving the blinding light away from his face after a moment, causing Sirius to back off his both hands in the air in a placating manner.

Remus' face morphed into a worried look as he scratched his chin, certain that Madam Pomfrey could never be wrong, but certain that James was telling the truth as well.

"Maybe it's your wand," Peter suddenly commented as he broke his state of quietness, continually surprising the others from his newfound involvement in their day-to-day actives, as well as his lateral thinking.

James hummed in thought as he brought his wand up to his face, turning over his wand as he started weighing it in his hand.

"Good suggestion, Wormtail," he acknowledged, "But why would my wand do this? It's been more than capable right from the very second I touched it."

" _The wand chooses the wizard_ " quoted Peter, recounting the words of the famous wandmaker in verbatim. "Maybe you should go to Ollivander just in case," he continued with a little shrug.

"Yeah, now that you say that… I think you're right," James mused in an undertone, feeling a sense of cold detachment from his once loyal wand.

"Oh well," he said as he shrugged, showing his wand back into his robes, "Let's get going then, before a teacher sees us down here." After checking to see if they had left anything behind, they exited the room into the large and warm kitchens.

The sounds produced in this room were rather pleasant to the ears. It was the sound of tender meat roasting over an open spit, of crackling fires that warmed large pots of bubbling soup, of potatoes and vegetables finely diced up on a wooden board, and of exotic fruits, churned and mixed into something that would bewitch even the most seasoned of taste buds.

"Bye folks," Remus hollered out, over the noise of the hustle and bustle of busy chefs.

"Goodbye, Messrs Marauders," the resident house-elves chorused in unison, one of the house-elves hitting another on the head with a pancake as it tried to break out into a farewell song.

They exited out from the kitchens to the staircase that led towards the Hufflepuff Basement and marched back up, intent on spending the rest of the lazy Sunday evening in their Gryffindor dormitory.

It was quiet in the cool and quickly darkening hallways as they trundled along, regaling each other with colourful stories that contained the most imaginative of embellishments. As they were walking, Sirius suddenly felt the hairs on his neck stand up ominously as they passed by a dimly lit passageway.

Without warning, he suddenly leapt towards James with his full body, cutting the talking teenager off with a squawk as he was talking. As they were falling, he felt something powerful whizz over their heads and collide into the wall behind.

"What-" came a short-lived yell from James, seconds before they both painfully crashed onto the stone floor.

Sirius said nothing, but quickly disentangled himself as he quickly stood up, putting his hand on James' head and turning it to the side. All of James' disgruntled yells disappeared in an instant as he spied what Sirius wanted him to see.

"Slytherins," he hissed, counting the heads quickly.

The group of sixth-year Slytherins sauntered out of the shadows and gave mock gasps of horror at the scene.

"Potter, you alright there?" the leader shouted from across the hallway with fake concern.

James' face pulled tight as the faces came into the light. It was Avery, Rosier and Wilkes, three of the more… radical Slytherins when it came to blood purity.

"Do be careful," Avery sneered when he drew close, "I hear blood traitors have a higher chance of dying recently."

They had all heard the new rumours. The ones about the new Dark Lord terrorizing even the Pure-bloods that chose not to follow down his path.

Sirius' face showed no emotion at all as shook his sleeve, causing his wand to fall into his waiting palm, loosely dangling in his grip as a dangerous and almost crazed look entered his eyes.

"Leave. I am not in the mood," he said with an expressionless face, his calm voice promising hints of utmost pain and misery if his will was not heeded.

Rosier tensed up automatically, knowing about the legendary curses that the house of Black taught all its family members, and pulled on Avery's sleeve, "Let's go," he murmured.

Avery sensed the shift in mood and realized that Sirius Black was still the heir from a dark and ancient bloodline, the wayward heir, but the heir nonetheless.

"Don't worry," Avery smirked in disdain, faint worry lining his eyes, "We'll be seeing each other much more often… just you wait."

With that, they strolled off once more into the darkness, vanishing from sight.

Remus then looked carefully at the dark imprint the spell had left behind on the stone and ran his fingers over the shadow, wrenching his hand away in pain as the curse activated.

"That was the Flagrante Curse," he said grimly as inspected his fingers, eyes narrowing as he saw that the top layer of his skin was burned off. If he had left his hand on the wall for just a few seconds longer, it would have certainly been a one-way trip to Madam Pomfrey's.

He turned back to the rest of them. "James… they are not messing around anymore."

Peter's countenance darkened as he scanned the murky corridor for more threats, "Every year they get more and more aggressive. Something is coming," he muttered forebodingly.

As they talked more about the current issues in the school, James noticed that Sirius still in the same position as he was in a couple of minutes ago, and had a face that resembled a marble statue, cut, cold, and ruthless. Signalling to the others that _it_ had happened again, they abruptly quietened down.

"Padfoot…," James softy started, "…it's over. They've gone."

Sirius gave a start as James addressed him, his dead eyes regaining some of its energy back as he sluggishly looked around.

James knew about the hellish trainings that Sirius was subjected to when he went back for the summer holidays. It was a brutal regime that punished failure… and also punished success. The house of Black always believed pain strengthened the mind.

"Just give me your wand," James coaxed as he slowly reached down towards Sirius' hand.

When he successfully managed to extricate it from Sirius' wooden grip, he let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding in. He then carefully tucked it into his own robes, next to his, as he warily scanned over Sirius' face, "You alright there, Pads?"

Sirius forced a smile on his face as his mind fully returned to its normal state, "Never better," he replied bitterly.

What Sirius not did tell the rest however, was the presence of an insatiable desire that burned deep within him, enticing him to cast the darkest of spells upon the Slytherins, to curse, to maim, to mangle, and to shatter. It took all the willpower he possibly had to stay his hand after seeing James get attacked by a spell he and his cousin, Bellatrix, were very intimate with.

He was a child of the Dark, and it called ever so seductively to him.

He let out a shuddering breath and cleared his thoughts, smiling faintly as the hazel-eyed teenager turned back to the other two members in the quartet and told a string of jokes that lifted their spirits.

Everyone in this group was adopted by James in one way or another after they first him on the train to Hogwarts. Him, the boy that lived in constant anger and fear of everything; Remus, the self-loathing outcast with a terrible secret; and Peter, a shell of a human being who tried his hardest to be his own man.

James was the glue that mended them and constantly held them together. Everyone knew this fact… apart from James.

A hand waved in front of his vacant face, "Mate, ready to go?" James cautiously asked.

A full grin slowly spread across Sirius' face as he wagged his finger impishly, "Now now, any more sentimental stuff and I might have to steal you away from Lily," he simpered, battling his eye lashes in a most comical manner.

James let out a roar of laughter and he slung his arm around his housemate as they started walking, glad that Sirius was himself again, "You'll have to duel her for that right."

Sirius visibly blanched, "Not her Bat-Bogey Hex."

James grinned evilly as he nodded.

"Her Bat-Bogey Hex."

* * *

Night time arrived quickly at Hogwarts, the gradual shortening of days signalling the advent of winter, a cruel mistress that blankets the world in stark white once a year, impartially killing flowers, plants and animals without a shred of remorse.

Sirius and Peter were already fast asleep in their warm canopy beds. The candlelight that illuminated the room where they slept was diffused into a shade of velvety gold, dimmed as it were from the encroaching darkness and barely flickering as it cast long shadows, instilling a sense of snugness into the two other people that were still awake.

Remus yawned loudly as he quietly slipped under his covers, peering at the hunched back of James as he was furiously working away at something.

"James, it's quite late," he whispered softly, not wanting to disturb the slumbering teenagers that lay adjacent to him.

James gave a grunt in affirmation but stayed focused on something on the desk in front of him, "Just a few more touches to the Marauder's Map," he murmured back as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk, his brilliant and innovative mind able to deconstruct the complex magic that lay within the humble piece of parchment.

"I'll be done soon."

Remus tiredly nodded and yawned once again, stifling the sound as much as he could with his hands, "G'night," he slurred as he flopped back, falling asleep instantly as soon as his head hit the pillow, something that he never could of done until recently.

The candle was nearing the end of its life when James had finally finished up the tedious work. The wick of the candle that was once whiter than alabaster was now charred black, with a pool of drying wax sitting in the middle of it.

He took out his wand, glancing ruefully at his once faithful friend, one that had easily cast a thousand and one spells for him, and softy uttered the incantation to activate the map.

" _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good._ "

As ink infused into the paper, he gave it a quick scan to make sure he didn't damage it in any way and gave a satisfied nod to himself as it saw it function a lot smoother. He started folding up the parchment but paused when he saw something unusual on the map.

A saw a pair of feet stood right outside the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor on the map. Naturally, he knew that he and his dormmates were not the only ones that knew of the existence of the secret room, and so he gave it a disinterested glance as he continued to fold up the map.

James' eyes then widened as he hurriedly flipped back to the previous spot on the parchment, his fatigued mind registering the name that accompanied the pair of inky boots.

 _Ariana._

There was no middle nor last name, just that.

Frowning, he wondered if he accidentally messed with one of the smaller runes in the map that displayed names.

"It couldn't be…" he muttered to himself, scrunching his face up in thought, jogging his memory to recall whether he had met other Ariana's in the castle over the past few years.

He then made a decision after seeing the footprints abruptly vanish, knowing that the Room of Requirement was one of the only places that his beloved map couldn't penetrate, and grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk, hastily draping it over himself after blowing out the candle. The wispy plumes of silver smoke lazily waltzed their way upwards from the extinguished flame, carried up by a small draft that spun it a halo around his head for a brief second.

He then checked his map one more to scout for patrolling prefects and truculent ghosts, affirming that his way was clear before leaving the confines of his dorm, still absorbed in thought when he surreptitiously exited the room.

 _Ariana, what in Merlin's name are you up to?_

* * *

A/N: All my motivation to write comes from you wonderful people! Enjoy the rest of your day!


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 17**

James tentatively peeked through the small gap, raising his wand to cast a charm would reveal human presences in the immediate surroundings.

" _Homenum Revelio,"_ he whispered softly.

After feeling the spell return empty-handed, he gave a frustrated grunt and shut the door, backing away quickly as it quickly vanished from existence, leaving only bare wall where it once stood.

James cursed internally as he had outright forgotten that the Room of Requirement housed a multitude of hidden rooms that were only accessible by certain key phrases or desires, marking this journey akin to finding a needle in a haystack.

 _Why would she come out this late at night for?_ He wondered to himself, crossing his arms as his eyes glazed over in deep thought.

 _Solitude? Bereavement? Sanctuary?_

His eyes lit up as he tried out a new phrase in his mind, walking past the entrance three times. After repeating the aforementioned action as another door appeared, he drew away in disappointment as the spell informed him in a negative.

After a few more tries, James was ready to give up. Fatigued in the lateness of the hour, he reassured himself that he would try just one more time, half-convinced that the footsteps he saw on the map were probably a hallucination brought on by his tiredness.

Making sure his invisibility cloak was still covering his body, he lethargically paced back and forth in front of the hidden entrance for the last time that night, his mind hazily remembering that Ariana was a first-year and could be learning extracurricular magic in secret, like almost all Pure-blood children did.

 _I need a place to hold a mastery over magic._

A door suddenly shimmered into existence, its surface causing him to initially jump with a small amount of shock at the sight. It was a glossy black door that seemed even darker that the encompassing night itself, with two massive sculptures of snakes that were entwined and in battle with each other; one of them pale white whilst the other was sanguine red.

"How curious," James muttered to himself, extending one arm to caresses the intricately detailed figures lightly, noticing oddly that the red snake's fangs were buried deep into the other snake.

Dismissing the unusual decorations on the door, he peeked into the room and cast the same spell once more. This time however, his face lit up as his spell bounced around the dark room and back to him, alerting him to the presence of a single person.

Shaking his hand in pain from casting so many spells over a short period of time using his disloyal wand, he entered silently into the murky room under his prized piece of fabric that concealed his physical existence.

A grand room greeted him, the walls coloured with an almost poisonous black as candles gently waltzed in the air, bestowing dim light upon scores of decrepit wooden bookshelves that stretched almost to the ceiling, making one wonder how one could get books from its highest shelves.

His feet softly padded in near total silence as he approached the middle of the room, where an empty table with open books strewn across its surface lay visible thanks to a lit lamp that lay adjacent to them. It looked like the table was once in use and was abandoned quickly, the signs of freshly spilled ink and hastily crumpled paper alerting him to it.

Still under his invisibility cloak, he felt something shift in the air, something powerful. It was only because of his Quidditch reflexes that he was able to spot a growing orb of light in the corner of the room.

James' eyes widened and immediately ducked with a yell, dropping heavily to the floor as the beam of red passed harmlessly over his head from out of the darkness.

"Ariana, is that you?" he shouted, still in a prone position as he drew his own wand, forgetting that the person in this room could be virtually anyone since his previous spell couldn't explicitly reveal who it was.

His next sentence died in his throat as a another spell sped out of the darkness from the opposite side of the room, causing him to roll instinctively to his side, adrenaline surging through his body as the streak of magic hit the ground where his body lay previously a second ago.

He stood up quickly and quietly, backing away behind a decaying bookshelf that was close to him as he thought to himself in slight panic.

 _How is this possible? I'm still under my invisibility cloak._

His musing was cut short as the bookshelf behind him suddenly _imploded,_ the entire piece of timber and its contents vanishing into thin air. The small particles from the wood and books showered the immediate area, covering his cloak in a thin layer of dust and giving away his position immediately.

James growled in anger as he recognized the advanced spell.

 _No, this couldn't possibly be her._

Galvanized by the new thought, he tore off his cloak and cast it aside as he leapt into the middle of the room with renewed energy, all traces of sleepiness lost as he pointed his wand skyward.

" _LUMOS MAXIMA!"_ he bellowed, his wand motions causing an extremely large sphere of light to erupt from his wand and accelerate to the top of the suffocating room, capable of illuminating the room for a few minutes.

James then leapt to the side as he sensed a burst of magic approach from his left, a bright blue spell humming with power which narrowly missed him.

A plan started to form in his mind, his brilliant mind scanning over his environment quickly and assessing what viable resources he could use to his advantage.

He then patiently waited in the open, the room much more visible now as only certain parts of the room lay shrouded in the shadows thanks to his previous spell. True to what he had been speculating, a forceful burst of vermillion from the same location forced him to dive to the right, once again missing him by a hairsbreadth.

James took a deep breath as he stood back up and readied himself, his heart rate to rapidly decelerating as his eyes grew calm. His arm made an elegant sweeping motion his wand in an arc at the direction where the spell came, muttering an incantation under his breath.

 _First, drive bird from its nest._

A second later, a plume of fire spewed out from the end of his wand, a shrieking ray of what looked like molten slag, slamming into the wooden objects on the other side of the room and causing them to immediately burst into hot and leathery flames.

Over the roar of the fire, he heard the feeble attempt to magically conjure water to stifle and extinguish the specially designed spell. It was just what he wanted. Where the water initially hit the flames, great plumes of black smoke immediately billowed, signalling to James his opponents' exact location as a hazy silhouette appeared, stumbling and coughing from the smoke.

 _Second, clip wings._

" _Everte Statum,"_ he barked, gripping his wand tight in concentration.

The blurred figure had no time to react as the spell rammed into its gut through the smoke, pushing it backwards and causing it to fall to its knees, the moderately powerful spell winding it.

 _Now, pluck feathers._

He yelled as he pointed his wand in various locations around the fallen figure, not giving it any chance to recover.

" _BOMBARDRA!"_

A multitude of explosions rocked the room, the deafening shockwaves reverberating around the high room and causing the figure to initially clap its hands to its ears in pain. A shower of flaming detritus showered the room as all surrounding objects around the figure were blasted away, leaving only the figure exposed on the floor in the open.

 _Lastly, neutralize._

He put his precious seconds that he bought to use, quickly raising his wand once more for the final stroke at the temporarily disoriented and deaf target.

" _Stupefy."_

His calm voice loudly resonated through the room, a growing globule of red light discharging from his wand and heading straight towards the seeming helpless outline.

Time seemed to slow down as the spell flew across the room and collided into the figure, the interaction emitting a weird noise that echoed around the room.

"What the-" James muttered in confusion, the bright light from the fire fully showing the face of his opponent as it came into view for the first time.

It was a face that soullessly stared into his with not a trace of emotion or movement, a face that looked like it had been carved from stone… literally. His breath quickened as he realized what he actually fighting against.

 _Stone..?! But that means-_

His thoughts progressed no further as he was suddenly wrenched to the floor by an invisible force, his wand torn away from his hand as a small person jumped onto his chest, pinning him down with a glowing wand that pointed directly at his face.

He immediately tried to use wandless magic, a feat that he could only rarely accomplish in times of desperation. However, the continuous usage of magic with his current wand caused his body to wrack with pain as he attempted any magic of the sort.

The last thing he saw before his vision turned to black, were painfully familiar green eyes… oddly tinted with red.

* * *

Ariana was taking absolutely no chances.

She levitated James' unconscious body onto a relatively undamaged couch near the entrance to the room, one of the only pieces of furniture that wasn't consumed in the inferno that James' had so brashly started.

Soot blackened her tired face as she flopped down onto a chair after completing the task, the falling ashes still softly descending around the room stemming from her laborious effort to fully extinguish the unnatural fire.

"You almost got me, you crafty wizard," she murmured in fatigue as she leaned over and poked the face of the sleeping figure, an almost innocent face that seemed only worried about the next prank or the next Quidditch match, one with no experience of the horrors of war.

 _I really wanted to talk to him properly but… not like this._

She got up and started pacing around the couch as she debated internally, bringing up one hand to her mouth and biting her nails unconsciously, her feet squelching loudly on the soggy remnants of what were once lovingly hand-written pages.

She paused midstep, her curious mind once more overriding her current desires as she tapped her chin in thought.

 _I have to confirm something first._

Making sure that James' wand was in her robes just in case something went horribly wrong, she stood over him and raised her own wand, steeling her will as she casted the counter-charm for the stunning spell.

" _Rennervate._ "

James gave a pained gasp as he jerked himself into an upright position, the rude revival back to the realm of consciousness causing his chest to heave heavily as he opened his eyes and quickly scanned over his surroundings, over blackened shelves, dripping water, fragments of furniture, and finally to a glowing wand that pointed directly at his face.

"Ariana, what are-"

"James Potter, where did we first meet?" she intoned with a voice that was absent of emotion.

"You can tal-"

"Answer the question, now," her wand ominously growing brighter from her command.

James put his head in his hands and wracked his brain, his thoughts still slightly disorganized from the abrupt awakening. He then looked up as his mind finally produced the memory that he wanted.

"K-Knockturn Alley… just outside The Spiny Serpent," he hesitatingly recalled.

His reply caused Ariana to give a noisy sigh of relief, causing her to flop down on the couch next to him as one of her hands disappeared into her burnt robes.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely as she handed him back his wand, "I didn't know that it took so much to take you down."

"Take me down?" James echoed in confusion as he took the proffered item, still unsure if he was dreaming at this point in time.

Ariana nodded but did not elaborate any further, keeping silent and patiently waiting for something that was unknown to James.

So he did what any sane person would do in this particular situation. He pinched himself.

Hard.

He gave a small yelp from the nip, the physical pain causing the pervading fog on his mind to finally dissipate, amusedly staring into the anxious face of the young witch before him soon after.

"Finally decided that you would start speaking to me, eh?" James drawled loudly as he languidly stretched on the couch, leaning back into it as he crossed one leg over another in a relaxed fashion.

Ariana gave a noise of surprise, "You knew?" she asked breathlessly.

All-knowing glint then appeared in James' eye as he gave a hearty laugh, "I noticed that you would sometimes try to start a sentence but stop at the last second. Always figured it was more of a mental block rather a physical issue," he replied, giving a nonchalant shrug as he tapped the side of his head.

Ariana broke into a full grin as she looked delightedly upon her father, not in the least ashamed that she was caught out, nor even angry that her manipulations had failed. All she felt was only an immense proudness within her heart that her schemes had no effect on the sharp-witted individual.

She then waited with bated breath for the onslaught of questions that James surely had for her.

After he kept silent for a short moment, she fidgeted slightly on the couch.

"Don't… Don't you have more questions?" she asked quizzically after a pause, scratching her head at the relaxing wizard.

"After being with the Marauders for over five years, I've learnt to just go with the flow of things," he chuckled, just content with sitting there and collecting his thoughts at the moment.

Seeing her face small slightly from his response, he realized with a start that this should indeed be the time to ask questions, the synapses in his mind finally connecting and registering the situation he was in.

"By Merlin's left saggy-" he yelled in surprise, cutting himself off at the end as he abruptly sat upright at faced her, "What that you I was fighting against?"

Ariana's face lit up as she nodded, the left side of her red lips tugging upwards to create a satisfied smirk, "You were brilliant, but it was unlucky for you that I had intimate knowledge of the objects in this room."

Seeing that James gave a look that urged her to elaborate further, she continued.

"Well, there is the stone golem in the back of the room that was relatively easy to animate. Then… there is that magical trinket that could set a time-delay on spells," she rambled, counting the objects off with her fingers, "Oh, there is also a pair of vanishing cabinets – that's why I could get behind you."

James scrunched his face up as he looked off to the side in thought from the inadequate answer, realizing there were a countless number of things that he needed to ask her to elucidate… everything really. He quickly turned back to her.

"How did you know that I entered? Why did you attack if you knew it was me? How could you see me? Why do you know so much advanced magic?" James interrogated as he rapidly fired off one question after another with no pause in-between, the intense profusion of words overwhelming the exhausted girl initially.

Ariana physically rocked backwards from the verbal barrage, but steadied herself a second later after it was over.

"Well, to sum most of it up, I can sense magic for some weird reason," she began steadily, successfully fighting against the magical and physical exhaustion that threatened to take her to the land of dreams, "To answer your second question, I couldn't take any chances… you could've been under the Imperius Curse – or worse."

She decided on her next words carefully, not wanting to rope James into the madness that was the fight against Voldemort, but also wanting someone whom she could share some things that she had kept bottled up within her.

 _If it is just as Albus had once said, we will end the war even before it begins, so nothing changes from this._

"Also, Headmaster Dumbledore has been training me in the magical arts to fight against Voldemort," she slowly spoke, deliberately enunciating each word as her eyes scanned his face carefully.

James' face immediately adopted an extremely worried look from her statement.

"This sort of magic is well beyond your years," he muttered, his strained tone evincing his distress, "Why is Professor Dumbledore doing this to you?"

Ariana frowned slightly at his odd demeanour and the strange wording of his question, "What do you mean?"

"You should be careful; casting such powerful spells at your age could permanently damage your growing magical core," James warned, "There is a reason why they only teach you the powerful spells at an older age."

Ariana gave a carefree smile as she shuffled closer to him on the couch, "Don't worry about that – Albus said that I have a large magical core."

While noting down that the young witch was on a first name basis with one of the most powerful men in the Wizarding world, James suddenly widened his eyes as he played back her previous proclamation in his mind.

"Hold on – _Voldemort_?" he exclaimed in urgency, "Isn't that the new Dark Lord?"

She darkly nodded, a grim mask rapidly replacing her cheerful countenance, "Yes, his inexorable rise to power has only just begun," she muttered, a haunted look flashing over her face for split second.

"Only through the combined effort of Albus and I, can we utterly annihilate this _monster_ ," she continued, her voice twisting into a savage snarl at the last word.

James backed up slightly in surprise from the bitter venom in her tone, totally catching him off guard as he had never seen her bear the cruel expression that accompanied it.

This was the only other time Ariana was openly talking of such secretive things to another person besides Albus. She wanted her father to understand her, down to every last bone if that was possible – within the constraints that fate had set her.

"Close your eyes," she instructed suddenly, her mind dead set on what she wanted to do.

After noticing that James hesitated slightly from the peculiar command, she persisted unwaveringly.

"Please?" she implored, her beseeching eyes melting away any remnants of resistance residing in him.

James acquiesced in her odd request and shut his eyes in uncertainty, a couple of seconds passing as he heard the faint rustling of fabric and the muted tearing of linen. He then heard Ariana's voice after a second of thick silence.

"You… you can look now."

James slowly peered under his eyelids, unsure what to expect from the enigmatic girl. What greeted him, however, was nothing he could have possibly anticipated.

" _GALLOPING GARGOYLES_ ," James yelled in shock, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates before averting his face away quickly, "Ariana, what are doing?" he continued in a desperate yelp.

Ariana was stark naked down to her waist, save for her necklace and the silver band which adorned her left wrist in a seemingly innocuously manner. Trembling slightly from a strange feeling of vulnerability, something which she had never felt before, she spoke out in a small voice.

"James, look at me," she quavered.

James violently shook his head as his eyes remained glued to the ceiling, "Ariana, I'm not sure what you want from me, but please put your clothes back-"

" _Look at me,"_ Ariana angrily interrupted, her pale chest heaving heavily from her paroxysm.

James jumped slightly from the forceful command, his eyes straying towards her against his will as he attempted to protest.

"Stop this at-"

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, he shut his mouth with an audible click, cutting himself off. His eyes roved over her body, faintly spotting long, grey scars marring what was once pristine skin under the flickering candles that softly illuminated the room.

Morbid fascination drew him closer to her, leaning forwards hypnotically as his eyes traced each cursed scar that striated her delicate body, his face morphing into a look of growing horror as he realized what he was gazing upon.

"Who did this?" he whispered, barely audible even through the thick silence of the night.

She tilted her head as the obvious question and kept her mouth shut.

James then narrowed his eyes in thought as he connecting the dots in his mind.

"The recent rumours… you are the child of the slain Pure-bloods, are you not?" he asked slowly, even though he knew the answer himself.

Her constant silence then caused his face to become rigid, his jaw clamping tight as he ground out his next words through gritted teeth.

"Did they do… _other_ stuff to you?"

"They did many a great many things," Ariana finally responded, not fully understanding what James was implying, a shudder running through her body as she recalled the torturous moments vividly with her newfound eidetic memory.

"No… I mean, d-did they…"

"There was nothing left they could take from me," she softy replied, causing James to pale in horror as he misconstrued her words.

Blood thundered in James' ears, burning rage sweeping though his body in ferocious waves like an erupting volcano as he clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white in his effort to remain composed. He turned his face away from her, wondering what sort of animal could go through such an unspeakable act.

"Why are you showing me this?" James asked with an emotionless and distant voice, physically gripping onto his hand that held with wand with his other to control himself.

Ariana lightly traced over her faint scar on her head, the outline of a lightning bolt guiding her finger along its crease and filling her with a sense of purpose.

"So that you know who I really am… and can understand why I must do this."

James let out a scoff, "What possibly can you do?" he said emotionlessly, his eyes flickering back to her. "You're too young to do anything of significance."

Ariana bit her lip in hesitation, "I have knowledge of a... weakness that Voldemort possesses," she replied after a short pause.

"There were others which knew about it as well, but they… didn't make it. I am the only one left," she continued with downcast eyes, her mind flashing through her memories of her past life.

"No, this isn't right," James croaked, falling into an extreme state of depression from what he was hearing, "This shouldn't have happened to you. You aren't meant to go through this, you're supposed to be out there doing… you know, girl stuff, not this."

Ariana's eyes hardened from the statement, "My parents died so I could live," she started in an unnaturally loud voice, as if daring him to challenge her, "I will not squander the precious gift of life they had given me in return for their own."

James hung his head in shame from her statement, realizing that he was unable to fully empathize with the emotive girl. After making a mental note to hug his parents the second he saw them again, he shifted closer over to her on the couch.

"You're very brave," he said solemnly as he gingerly took one of her hands and held it comfortingly in his, "If it was me in your shoes, I would have lost hope so quickly," he confessed in slight shame.

"No," Ariana disagreed instantly as she shook her head, her hair undulating like waves of flowing obsidian as she spoke with unnerving familiarly, "You would never give up."

James gave a half smile at her confident proclamation and patted her hand in admiration.

"Wherever your parents are, I'm sure they would be proud of you."

Ariana suddenly stilled, her muscles freezing up and locking in place for a brief second. She then sighed softly, so gentle that it rivalled a slight spring breeze, its existence almost lost in the stillness of the night. She tightly gripped the large hand that was clutching hers, a callous and rough hand that had one too many years of holding a broomstick, and raised it flat against her naked chest in one swift motion.

A protest immediately rose to tip of James' lips, but died at the last second as he felt the beginnings of the rhythmic beat of Ariana's heart under his palm. It first felt like a faint echo, but then gradually strengthened, beating with such energy and life that he felt like a tiny rock in the middle of a raging ocean, battered by the great waves that rose up from its churning depths.

"My parents are _always_ with me," Ariana murmured as she looked up into the face of her young father, a tender and loving smile gracing her face.

There was nothing sexual about the contact of skin upon skin, only the mere whisper of an everlasting bond in its nascent stages, beginning to form with an unyielding strength, annealing and reshaping from the crucible of her revelations.

After a couple of seconds, James pulled his hand away with an awkward cough and a strange look on his face. It was awhile before either of them spoke.

"This might sound silly, but for a brief moment I felt something. Like some sort of…," James started as he broke the silence, struggling to find the right word.

"Ah forget it – it must because I'm tired," he answered himself with an embarrassed laugh, his fatigue finally catching up to him.

He then looked towards the silent young witch next to him. After noticing that her half lidded eyes betrayed her tiredness, he decided that this discussion would be best continued after a good night's sleep.

"Come on, let's get you dressed," he said firmly, gathering up the top half of her robes and placing it over her head, pushing her hands through the sleeves.

As he was in the middle of the process, a shiny object fell out of one of her pockets and onto the couch. James spotted it out of the corner of his eyes and grabbed it when he had finished clothing her.

"You dropped this," James said as he proffered the item back to her.

Ariana gave a noise of surprise as she lethargically reached out and grabbed it, turning it over and inspecting it after. It was a curious looking object, an intricate piece of silver that was shaped in the spread wings of a Hippogriff with a large blue sapphire shaped like an oval in the centre.

"I almost forgot about this," she yawned, "One of your spells created a hole in the wall, which led to another room. While I was extinguishing the flames, a couple of trinkets and artifacts spilt through. I just thought this one looked interesting."

"May I see it?" James suddenly requested, feeling strangely disturbed about this seemingly innocuous piece of jewellery.

With a nod, she passed it back to him. He scrutinized it, making out small words that were elegantly engraved onto its surface in cursive.

" _Wit belong measure is man's greatest treasure,"_ he quoted, looking back up at her with slight interest, "Hey, isn't that that the common saying from Rowena Ravenclaw?"

Ariana was too tired to care at the moment and shrugged in indifference, unable to properly process his words.

James nodded in understanding at her unspoken desire and slipped the diadem back into her robes and put one arm on her shoulder as they stood up and made their way out of the Room of Requirement, his invisibility cloak safely tucked his robes.

Just before they exited the room, James suddenly remembered something important which he had forgotten to say. Recalling the lack of shame Ariana had in her eyes from being half naked around another person, a male teenager to be precise, he took a gulp as he thought of the best way to say what was on his mind before they headed off.

"Ariana, it is uh… not okay to take your clothes off in front other boys, you got that?" he lectured sternly.

"Oh – okay, only you then," Ariana sleepily replied, snuggling deeper into James' side.

"No, I didn't mean that," he groaned as he smacked his head.

The young witch never caught his reply as her eyes were already closed, serenity plastering across her face as her mind slowly drifted off into a higher plane, a place where wonder and delight were mere commonplace, waning and waxing as the subconscious pleased.

James gave a sigh and lifted up her small frame with both hands, carrying her back to her dorm as he wondered how in Merlin's name was he was going to deal with a daughter – if he had one – in the future.

Moonlight splashed on them ever so often as they passed by the high windows in the dark, empty corridors of the ancient castle. The intermittent beams shone down upon Ariana's face, a face which displayed an unbending unification of compassion and strength, a unique fusion that was infinitely more powerful than their separate counterparts.

James felt his heart strings pull at the sight, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in fondness.

 _Whatever trials the morrow may bring, this girl will surely conquer them._

 _This now, I know._

* * *

"Class dismissed."

The delicious words floated across the classroom and carried themselves into the ears of a young girl that was on the very verge of nodding off from boredom.

Ariana jerked her head up at the magic phrase, animation infusing back into her once wooden eyes as she stood up quickly and made for the door, all traces of drowsiness now absent. She desperately wanted to go back into the Forbidden Forest to test out a couple of new spells in her break, a trip to the Room of Requirement too risky to execute in the middle of the day.

Eager to get out of the History of Magic class, she beat all the other students the first to open the doors and exit, but jumped in shock as a large hand snaked out and reached for her arm. Before any sort of protest could be made, a familiar voice calmed her heart down.

"Ariana, are you free now?" James asked casually as he pulled her to the side, both of them avoiding the deluge of first-years that poured out through the doorway. He seemed nonchalant and relaxed at first glance, but the thin layer of worried that coating his eyes told another story, one that was left unstated in the annals of history.

Ariana rolled her eyes in amusement at the tall teenager as she crossed her arms, realizing that ever since she revealed herself to the said boy, he would make sure that she was always accompanied by someone at any given time.

 _I guess I'll be selfish for just one more day._

 _It won't hurt… right?_

"Sure, what do you have in mind?" she replied with a sweet smile, shaking off a disturbing feeling that hidden eyes were watching her.

"Want to meet the gang? They're a harmless bunch… well, mostly," James chuckled fondly, his laughter slow and warm enough to oddly remind her of honey.

Ariana's eyes lit up in delight as she nodded in acceptance at his proposal.

They languidly walked side by side amongst the unending flow of the students, past the hustle and bustle of wizards and witches that bumped into each other and trod on each other's toes, past young girls that were chattering excitedly about the latest vogues, past the older teenagers, ones which stayed quiet as they moved, knowing the inevitable was about to occur.

Voldemort has been relatively silent of late, so an almost hidden atmosphere of elation had perfused throughout the castle, infecting even some of the more radical Slytherins. Not just one, but many rumours had started spreading that the Dark Lord himself had been harming those which were pure of blood.

 _Whoever our unknown benefactor is, they are sure is doing something which I would have never anticipated._

Ariana smirked in victory as she mused, vividly recalling the moment when Albus told her that a handful of Pure-blood families had retracted their pledge of loyalty to Voldemort, solely due to these rumours.

 _To destroy a plant fully, you must first dig up its roots._

As she mulled over her thoughts, a figure – out of the corner of her eye – recognised her and hurried towards her in a semblance of panic down the corridor.

The individual did not even register anyone else as it placed itself firmly before her, looking down in what seemed like extreme agitation.

"Was it something I said the other day? Did I do something wrong?" Lily Evans asked in a single breath as she interposed herself between the two travelling students, the flurry of words causing the other witch to blink twice.

Ariana warily eyed the agitated teenager in front of her in confusion for a brief moment, but soon realised what event she was referring to.

"Oh – don't worry about that. It was not your fault at all," she replied in total sincerity, taking one of Lily's hands and patting it as she assuaged the older girl's concerns.

Lily breathed a large sigh of relief from the utterance, the light in her eyes restoring to its fullness as she lightly squeezed the small hand in hers before letting go, "So, where are you off to now?" she brightly inquired.

Ariana tilted her head as she temporarily ignored her question, mirth filling her as she spotted James' apprehensive face over Lily's shoulder.

"James was just accompanying me to the Gryffindor dorms," she started with an innocent face, the flickering traces of a grin skilfully suppressed at all corners of her mouth.

" _James_?" Lily muttered in slight bewilderment, "Surely you don't mean-"

Her face then slowly turned around, inch by inch, until she gazed upon the one thorn in her side that did not seem to go away.

"Uhh… hey," James greeted as he smiled weakly, characteristically running one hand through his unmanageable mop of hair.

"James," Lily acknowledged icily, "What is your business with this girl?" she continued, shooting a withering look at him. She instantly noticed that something was different about James, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

James's face flushed in annoyance at the overbearing attitude, "I'll have you know, it's none of your-"

He was cut off as an earnest voice piped up behind Lily.

"Mister Potter said he'll give me one Galleon for every prank I pull on a schoolmate," Ariana interrupted as she tugged on Lily's sleeve, causing her to turn around and gaze into wide angelic eyes, their intensity causing the older witch to falter slightly.

Lily's visage then turned predatory as she turned back to the teenager that was adorning a look of abject horror on his face, "James Potter…you have ten seconds to explain yourself," she began calmly as she ignored his spluttering protests, her composed tone layered dangerously with hints of what lay beyond.

Ariana gave a mischievous smirk as she slowly crept away from the arguing duo and leaned her back against the cold stone of the corridor wall. She had seen her parents interact like this many times before. Little did people know, they utterly _thrived_ on it, enjoying every last second of the blustering and caterwauling that insonified every nook and cranny in the castle.

So amused was she of the scene, that she failed to notice a group of Gryffindors slide up beside her and lean casually against the wall she was propped up on.

"A most brilliant move kiddo, if I do say so myself," a voice emphatically declared.

Ariana jumped slightly from the sound, turning her head in curiosity at the new arrivals.

"What say you, Remus?" Sirius continued in a mock-baritone voice, swirling his hand around in the air in a poised manner.

"Indubitably so, my dear fellow" Remus replied in kind, his hands on his hips while his chin jutted outwards in a parody of dignification.

Sirius let out a big groan as he broke character, "Please, no more big words until after lunch," he whined as he clutched his head dramatically.

Ariana simply could not contain herself at the playful interaction and burst into peals of laughter, her frame shaking uncontrollably as she let herself loose for the first time in a long time.

The mellow laughter was not all amusement as a deep seated tone of melancholy lay buried ever so lightly beneath its surface. It was strangely haunting, as a feeling of intense longing filled its melodic tone, filled with sorrow for friendships that were once lost, and strengthened with hope for the ones gained.

Perhaps, in hindsight, one could say that the Marauders were not the genesis of her laughter, but rather the trigger.

Ariana's full-blown laughter finally devolved into lilting giggling after a moment, the mirth that filled her electrifying eyes never leaving as she struggled to regain her composure.

Remus raised an eye in interest at the vivacious girl, feeling a strange tug of familiarity inside him.

James and Lily's argument quieted down from the sound of rich laughter, looking up and around in wonder as to where it originated from. They found themselves strangely drawn towards the tuneful noise, their senses heightened as every step felt like treading dewy grass, cool and welcoming akin to a midnight breeze.

They finally found themselves before a congregation that that only one of the two felt pleased to join.

"Perfect timing, lads," James nodded a spirited greeting as his flushed face slowly returned to its normal colour, his previous squabble all but forgotten, "You all remember me telling you about Ariana, I hope."

He pivoted towards the first-year, "Now then, young Ariana, this is Remus," he continued as he gestured with his hand, causing a polite exchange in greetings.

"…and this is Sirius-"

"Snuffles," Ariana loudly broke in without thinking, her mind acting faster than her body.

Four pairs of eyes eyed her in interest from her interruption, causing her widen her eyes in alarm as she realized what she had said, furiously thinking of some way to explain the bizarre remark.

Ariana felt her face flush red from embarrassment, "S-Sirius doesn't suit him…. I like Snuffles more," she mumbled as she looked down at the ground, one foot shuffling behind the other.

Lily gave a squeal as her heart melted from the precious sight, "Aren't you just the cutest," she almost cooed, perceiving the moniker to be born out of pure innocence.

 _Cute?_ Ariana thought to herself in bewilderment, wondering what would have caused the older girl to say that.

 _Certainly the first time I've ever been called that…_

James gave a roaring laugh as he slapped Sirius on the shoulder, "What do you think it… _Snuffles?_ " he sniggered as he goaded the grumbling teenager, skilfully dodging out of the reaches of his playful punches.

Ariana then ignored the others as they chattered amongst themselves, and turned the last member in the group that hadn't been introduced formally to her. A blinding pain temporarily seared through her brain for a brief second as she looked upon the figure, the intense feeling causing her to feel as if her head was split open from the inside.

Of all the stories she had heard from her parents in the afterlife and in her life before that, she could not deduce who this particular person was. The more she tried to wrack her brain for ideas, the more the twinge returned in severity.

"H-Have we met before?" she asked with a pained gasp.

"Well surely," the mysterious person replied with a worried look at her distressed face, "We would have passed by each other at least once or twice since school started, since we are both in Gryffindor."

Clenching her fist tightly in an attempt to dull the throbbing pain, Ariana shook her head violently from his answer.

"No, I mean have we _met_ before?" she echoed, her strange enunciation causing the other student to adopt a highly confused countenance.

"No, I'm sure about that," the student said in a frown.

Ariana looked over her shoulder at James for assistance, but found him engrossed in what seemed to be a very lively and hot debate, long gone and deviated from his original intentions. Her headache seemed to slowly dissipate as she continued to stare at him, a sense of calm numbness flooding through her system.

She turned back to her housemate and shrugged, sticking out a hand soon after in a polite greeting, "Anyway, I'm Ariana Peverell."

A bright smile appeared on the student's face as the action was returned in kind, shaking her hand gently.

"I'm Peter… Peter Pettigrew."

* * *

A/N: Developments all round! Also, as someone who had only met their real parents recently as well, this chapter personally struck a chord in me.

P.S. Sickness relapsed so updates might be a little slow. I'll try my hardest to keep going, don't worry!

Thanks for all the support!


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 18**

 _A couple of weeks later_

Ariana's back arched in agony from the ripples waves of pain that were undulating through her, robbing her of her ability to speak as her nails dug deeply into the palms of her hand, her blood seemingly boiling and bubbling underneath her skin.

The ten seconds of torment seemed like an echo of eternity to her.

As soon as the spell ended, her back hit the cold floor once again and she let out a breathless gasp from the brief respite, greedily gulping in air through her damaged throat as she relished in the coolness of the black marble that almost sizzled against her burning back.

Voldemort lazily twirled his wand as he leaned back into his regal chair, "This is your last chance," he said calmly, "Tell me the name of Dumbledore's spy in the Ministry, and you will walk out of here alive."

Ariana bitterly laughed as her eyes remained fixated on the ceiling, "Your words are empty, demon… as are your… ideals," she managed to wheeze.

"You… you are-," she tried to continue, but choked at the end as blood sprayed out of her mouth and fell back down onto her face, the crimson fluid starting to slowly form a pool around her head.

Voldemort stood up, "You're starting to bore me," he muttered in displeasure, breaking through the last of her Occlumency defences and scanning the recesses of her mind. Wrenching himself out after realizing she didn't have the information, he stared off into the distance.

"I wonder..." Voldemort then loudly said to himself as he tapped his chin in mock-thought, "How long would it take for the Cruciatus to kill someone with internal bleeding?"

Ariana's heart rate spiked upwards as she felt her internal organs slowly starting to fail, the edges of her vision slowly blurring as she felt her strength to carry on sapping away with each passing second.

"Oh – what a coincidence," Voldemort darkly chuckled as he looked back at her, a cruel smile distorting his handsome face as he gazed upon the supine figure, raising his wand for the final time.

" _Crucio."_

Ariana had experienced the Cruciatus Curse only once before, briefly, during her duel with Voldemort at the end of her fourth year at Hogwarts. Back then, the pain was too brief, her adrenaline was too high, and her senses were too deadened to… appreciate the curse.

Now, however, was an entirely difference case. Even if the Muggle aliments hyperalgesia and allodynia amalgamated into one unholy concoction, it would be like a gentle breeze compared to this raging storm.

The bloodcurdling scream she emitted when the Unforgiveable spell hit her did not resemble the scream of a human, but of a dying animal in its final throes. She writhed violently on the floor as she continued screaming, her muscles twitching and curling in pain from what seemed like a legion of burning knives that stabbed at every nerve she possessed in her contorting body.

Her voice eventually gave out as she gurgled on something, the consequence of internal bleeding in combination with the Cruciatus curse rearing its ugly head as blood thickly poured out of her mouth, pushed out by the uncontrollable muscles spasms in her oesophagus that forced it out her body.

Moments passed, and the pain that had once burned like fire slowly faded into an icy numbness, black filling the edges of her vision as all she could hear now was her own faltering heartbeat. Her eyes starting to close as her senses slowly deadened from the lack of blood, feeling her lungs filling up with fluids of all sorts.

In the dark recesses of her mind, she heard a voice hazily pierce through the growing darkness on her brain, faintly shouting something that she could not make out.

"… _-ana…"_

She sluggishly thought of her loved ones as her vision turned on the cusp of complete blackness.

"… _-lease stop-…"_

The words got louder and clearer, its volume increasing tenfold with each subsequent second until it finally reached a crescendo that rattled her entire body.

" _WAKE UP!"_

Ariana was still screaming when she opened her eyes, her mind in such a disorientated state that she thrashed about wildly in confusion, only to find that her limbs and neck were bound down by something.

A sharp pain in her left wrist caused her to stop screaming and snap her back to reality, the intense thumping of her heart not abating as her breathing refused to steady itself. She blinked twice through watery eyes to clear her vision and only then, did she notice that four young girls were pinning her down on a bed… her bed specifically.

Amelia's scared face slowly came into view from the corner of her vision, "Ariana…" she began in a small and quavering voice, her tremulous hands still pinning down the other girl's shoulders, "…are you okay?"

"W-What's happening," Ariana croaked in confusion as she looked around at their distressed faces, her voice scratchy and dry from a strange rawness in her throat.

Sensing that the brunt of the storm had passed in the murkiness of the early morning, the other girls slowly released their restraining grip on her body and stood back up, looking at each other in uneasiness.

In the past few weeks that had elapsed, Ariana had vowed to change many things in her current life, the first being to apologize to her dorm-mates for her stand-offish behaviour. Besides Amelia, there was Pandora, a Pure-blood and the mother of Luna Lovegood; then there was Lyra, another Pure-blood, the female parent of Katie Bell; lastly, there was Titania, a Muggle-born with no connection with her future.

Lyra began first, her brown curly hair bouncing against her tanned skin as she started, "Is… everything alright?" she hesitantly asked, "You were having a nightmare, but we couldn't manage to wake you up."

Ariana's eyes widened in shock as she sat up suddenly, the other girls jerking back slightly from the action.

 _Nightmare?_

She looked down at herself, noticing that her entire body was covered in a thin film of sweat as she struggled to put her mind in order. All of a sudden, the fresh memory of what had just transpired hit her like a wall of bricks, the dream-state feeling eerily similar to the one she experienced in her fifth-year.

 _This is the third time this month this has happened, and these dreams are only intensifying with each subsequent occurrence._

 _No, these… are no mere dreams; Albus needs to know just happened immediately._

She felt her right hand spasm against her will as her mind raced through countless theories and hypotheses. She looked at it for a brief second in dread.

 _The pain… why can I still feel it?_

She tensed the muscles in her body to hide her uncontrollable twitches, before looking up and forcing a smile onto her tired face, "It was nothing… just a bad dream," she smoothly lied, brushing away hair that strangely clung to her face.

The four other girls sucked their breaths in sharply from the sight that arose from that action as Ariana felt a strange wetness trickle down the right side of her face.

Ariana confusedly reached up and touched her cheek gently, her hand then pulling away as she looked upon it, seeing only a bright crimson sheen that coated her palm.

"B….b-blood," Titania stammered in a high-pitched voice, losing all colour from her face from the sight.

Ariana's eyes dilated in terror as it was the exact the same colour as the blood in her dream, her mind once more regurgitating the physical experience of torture and death in her nightmare to the forefront of her mind.

She felt herself slipping, her grip over her magical core growing unsteady as a whirlwind of chaos descended upon her mind. Knowing that she only had precious seconds to act, she stilled her body and used all the Occlumency skills she still possessed and slammed a barrier down hard.

 _Control yourself._

The was a strong resistance at first, but soon felt considerably calmer as her breathing and heart rate slowed down back to their normal pace. It was getting easier to control her wild and uncontrollable responses through the passage of time, after finding out that intense focus now reaped dominion over her emotions.

She let out a shuddering breath as she knew exactly where the blood was coming from, and let out a tired smile in an attempt to pacify the frantic girls, "Sorry about this, just an old wound acting up," she reassured as gently as she could.

Temporarily ignoring her dorm-mates, she reached under her bed and grabbed a small towel from her trunk, saturating it with water from a simple _Aguamenti_ spell then gingerly dabbing her sore scar on her forehead and the side of her face with it after.

" _Old wound?"_ Pandora mouthed silently to the others in confusion while Ariana performed her ablutions in silence.

Pandora was the certainly the most regal girl Ariana had ever met. She always carried a passive face that almost never changed its countenance given the situation, years of Pure-blood etiquette drilled into her mind as her soft round face and curly snow-blonde hair reminded her instantly of Luna, but without any of her eccentricities.

Lyra then tapped her chin in thought, the highly intelligent first-year trying to make sense of the situation. Her eyes grew large in recognition as she saw the shape and colour of the scar on young witch's forehead properly for the first time under the soft morning light as she was finishing up drying her face.

"I know what that is," she said breathlessly as her eyes grew wide, breaking the strained silence as four pairs of eyes swivelled towards her, "That is definitely a cursed scar."

Noticing that she received a couple of questioning stares, she lightly blushed from the attention, "I know this because my dad is has one too… he's an Auror," she explained matter-of-factly.

Ariana internally cursed from being caught out for something so quickly and had already begun to make plans to cast silencing wards around her bed every night in case this happened in the future, and more importantly, investigate as to why her visions of Voldemort were intensify day by day.

Noticing that her friends were nervously waiting for some sort of response from her, she decided that some sort of truthful explanation was needed to mollify them.

"It's true what Lyra said," Ariana began slowly, "This particular curse scar…" she pointed to the reddened and pronounced lightning bolt above her right eye, "…lets me feel certain, um… effects from time to time."

"What do you mean _certain effects_?" Pandora instantly questioned in a steady voice, speaking up for the first time, "From what we saw, it looked as if you were in a lot of pain."

Ariana opened her mouth to automatically lie, but snapped it shut at the last second as she saw four solemn and earnest faces looking straight back at her as they waited for a reply. She hugged her knees tightly, burying her face into them and staying silent for a short moment.

"What I felt just now…" she whispered into the stillness of the morning, not raising her head as she wondered why in Merlin's name was she felt compelled to tell the truth to four adolescent girls, "…was the Cruciatus."

Pandora and Lyra immediately blanched, their eyes widening in horror from the utterance while Amelia and Titania adopted each adopted a confused look as that word had no meaning to them.

Amelia immediately sensed the dismay that thickened the atmosphere and planted herself in front of the two cognizant girls with haste, "What does that mean," she asked rapidly in consternation.

Lyra seemed to have a wooden voice as she recalled her father telling her the horrors of that particular curse, "It is a spell that has been banned by the Ministry for centuries," she intoned, "A spell said to inflict so much pain upon an individual, that it would drive him or her mad within fifteen minutes."

"Anyone who even dares to cast that spell gets shoved straight into Azkaban for at a long, long time," she added as an emphasis, her eyes flicked sideways at Amelia and hoping that the answer sufficed.

Ariana still had her head hidden as the other girls talked amongst themselves, still shaken by the episode, wreathed by her wild mass of long, black hair that safeguarded and kept her out of sight from all dangers.

She flinched slightly as a pair of cool arms delicately wrapped themselves around and cradled her, a soft and comforting voice accompanying it soon after.

"Come then, let's get you to the Hospital Wing," a voice softly murmured in her ear.

Ariana raised her head, giving a genuine smile from the undeserved affection she was receiving from Amelia, "I'm fine, my head's just a little sore that's all," she firmly reassured as her voice strengthened, trying to put everyone at ease.

"But-"

"Don't worry, I'm fine."

There was a brief period of silence as everyone digested and processed the new developments.

"Where did you get the scar from?" Titania blurted out in curiosity as she broke the silence, feeling a great deal braver now that the presence of blood was absent. She was a small and jumpy girl with frazzled auburn hair and clear skin, not was not the most courageous of witches, but one who always tried her best in any given situation.

As if Titania suddenly held up a cue card, Lyra and Pandora also began talking over each at once as they poured out question after question.

"What other spells can you feel?"

"Does it hurt when you touch it?"

"Why is it that-"

Amelia then loudly clapped in the air all of a sudden, making them all jump as she cleared her throat, "Lets save the questions for when Ariana feels better, don't you agree?" she chided with a little warning in her voice.

"Also, did you girls think beforehand that maybe, _just_ maybe, she doesn't want to talk about it at all?" she sternly added as she placed her hands on hips, staring disapproving at the interrogators.

A dawning of realization appeared on their faces as they fervently nodded in agreement, murmuring sincere apologies to the young witch that was trying to hold back a chuckle, as the scene reminded her of one Molly Weasley reprimanding her rascally sons.

 _Girls sure behave differently from boys._ Ariana thought in wonder, her heart warming up to the considerate girls.

 _I doubt Ron and Seamus were even as half as mature at this age._

Lyra then brightened up as she looked at a grandfather clock that heavily sat near the doorway, "Anyway, breakfast is ready soon, let's get freshened up," she announced with newfound energy, eager to get a bite to eat after all the excitement as she grabbed her toiletries and leapt towards the door.

She paused midway and surreptitiously looked sideways at the dishevelled young witch that sat on her bed, quickly veiling the pity that dwelled in her eyes as she opened her mouth, "Ana, want to come? It's only fair that you get first dibs on the shower today."

Ariana raised her head in panic, "N-no it's fine," she spluttered in an overly loud voice, waving animatedly in the air and ignoring the weird looks she was receiving from the action, "I, uh… want to relax for just a bit more… I'll shower later."

Lyra nodded in understanding and turned back towards the door, meaning to exit but stopped once again as a loud voice called her to halt.

Ariana nervously played with her hair as she garnered the attention of the room, "Um… whatever happens in this room, stays in this room, is that okay?" she clumsily requested, not so subtly alluding to what recently happened.

Amelia clicked her tongue at the transparent plea, "Who do you take us for silly, of course our lips are sealed," she gently admonished, her words causing Titania to voice her reassurances as well.

Pandora and Lyra looked at each other seriously for a brief second before nodding to each other in some unspoken agreement, straightening their bodies and shifting into a formal stance that only the blue bloods of the magical community could perform perfectly.

"We swear upon our magic, that your secret will remain unspoken," they chanted in unison, both of the wands already in their hands.

Ariana sharply sucked in her breath in surprise as a soft glow of light filled them both, their magic recognizing the spoken contract. Her eyes become large as saucers as her mind stumbled to process their drastic decision, "W-Why?" she spluttered in confusion.

Pandora gave a half smirk as she tossed her wand back on to her bed as she leaned against her bedpost, "You could of completely lied or mislead us," she started seriously, "Instead, you found the courage within yourself to tell us the truth. In return, we will honour that commitment."

Ariana looked down for a brief moment as she listened to the unusually mature and level-headed young girl, before putting one hand on her heart, "Thy kindness shall beest rememb'r'd," she solemnly responded, her mind racing back to an old and dusty Pure-blood book on etiquette she casually read in her spare time.

"You were taught well," Pandora drawled, clearly nothing able to faze her as she only adorned a small smile of satisfaction, "Are your parent's aristocrats as well?"

Ariana, unwilling to neither tell any lies nor tell the truth in her current state, lazily waved her hand in the air, "A story for another time," she quickly dismissed, realizing that they were all still clad in their pyjamas in the lateness of the morning.

A silence fell over room's occupants, a welcome change from the unearthly noises that were emitted just a short while ago.

"Uh guys, what's going on?" Titania suddenly asked in bewilderment as she broke the silence, scratching her head as she looked at everyone in an owl-like fashion in extreme confusion.

Ariana's face started glowing in happiness as she watched the other three girls falling over themselves to explain what had just transpired, within each of them carrying no prejudice towards Muggle-borns, even though they were three Pure-bloods that were taught to hate from birth.

 _Ah, the bliss of being young and innocent: a daydream without pain, without fear, without loss._

Her eyes then hardened, turning into burning smoulders that ignited and cackled with a fervid ferocity as she stared at them, an epiphany sudden striking her and rising to the top of her mind from the sight.

 _This world will ultimately, not be saved by people like me or Albus, but people just like you._

 _People that are capable of acceptance and tolerance to those which are different, capable of protecting the weak from those with power… even if you had none yourself, and capable of sheltering your ideals from the inevitable storm of hate and unrest, whilst you stand by them unwaveringly._

 _That sort of world…_

Ariana gently laid her head against her headboard, relaxing in tranquillity as her heart opened up its floodgates.

… _doesn't sound too bad._

* * *

The display was intoxicating, to be sure.

The bread, covered in garlic, olive oil and generous quantities of rosemary, lovingly stuffed with goat cheese and thyme, would cause anyone's mouth to water at the sight. Nestled beside it, was the warm croissants, steaming toast, crunchy hash browns, and all the other edibles you could possible imagine for breakfast in a cold autumnal morning.

Ariana's stomach rumbled at the decadent display, vowing to personally thank the industrious house elves later. She then grabbed a piece of toast with refined poise, not letting anyone know that she just wanted to wolf it down in a voracious manner that would of made Ron proud.

Picking up a dull knife, she applied copious amounts of thick, creamy yellow butter to it, followed a dollop of sweet, tangy blackberry jelly. The pleasant softness of the butter blended perfectly with the bitter-sweet taste of blackberries, creating a flash of ambrosia in her mouth.

Hence, breakfast commenced, as the tinkle of glasses, the light banging of wayward spoons against bowls and the laughter of children and adults as they helped themselves to the warm food painted a rather cosy picture.

As the morning meal was coming to a close, a voice suddenly boomed over all other noises as its owner spotted something through one of the grand windows that the Great Hall housed, _"THE MAIL IS HERE!"_ it cried eagerly.

Excited shouts and whoops of delight filled the air an innumerable amount of owls suddenly filled the air, swooping past the floating candles and soaring nimbly to avoid the jumping teenagers as they delivered letters, newspapers and gifts galore.

Ariana carried on munching on her food, not paying heed to the incoming torrent of deliveries as she knew that there was nothing for her.

"Hey Ana, I've just realized – where's your owl?" Lyra suddenly inquired with a tilted head after most of the owls had left. A small, square gift topped a bunch of letters that were piled up in front her, "I've never seen it… nor you get anything," she added as an afterthought.

Ariana's face initially lost her healthy glow for a split second as she put down her spoon, but gained it instantly back as memories of her feathery companion flooded back to her, "Oh, you've never met my owl, Hedwig?" she laughed gaily in fondness, "When I get the chance, I'll introduce you to her."

 _20 years from now, you'll meet her._ Ariana thought with a light heart. _This, I promise._

She then glanced over to Pandora, always amazed that she looked ever so identical to Luna, and froze as she saw something on the back of the newspaper she was primly holding that instilled some primal fear into her.

"Pandora, could I have the newspaper for just a small moment please?" she asked in a tight voice, forcing a smile onto her face as the other young witch looked up.

The said girl slightly frowned initially at Ariana's strange behaviour, but shrugged and complied willingly as she folded up the _Daily Prophet_ she held and passed it over.

Her slender fingers reached out and clashed onto the proffered item with an almost dead grip, dread filling her as she turned it over to the back page.

There it was, a small and seemingly hidden article, shoved to back page of one of the most powerful pieces of propaganda the Ministry possessed.

 _ **DRAGONS ESCAPE AMIDST BRAZEN WEREWOLF ATTACK**_

 _Thirty-one dragons escaped during a skirmish that erupted in broad daylight in Otopeni, Romania. There were no causalities, the only damage being to the four large enclosures that held the magical beasts. The main suspect is a wanted werewolf that goes by the name 'Fenrir Greyback' and seems to have acted independently. Frantic dragon trainers say that…_

"What is this…?" Ariana whispered to herself in dread as she sensed the hidden imprint on the seemingly random attack, knowing that Greyback was allied with Voldemort and was in no way acting independently.

 _There were no dragons at all in the First Wizarding War._ Ariana tensely thought as she tried to imagine scenarios in her mind where Voldemort would currently want beasts and half-breeds in his hegemony for Pure-blood dominance.

A hand waved in front of her vacant face after a couple of minutes, startling her and breaking her long muse as she looked at the hand's owner, "Sorry to interrupt your daydream princess, but we have Potions in five minutes," Pandora patiently reminded with an elegant flick of her wrist, the only one of the four other dorm-mates that was still present in the Great Hall.

Ariana blinked twice and looked at a nearby clock and her mind caught up with her and let out a squeak as she noticed the time. Rushing back up to her dorm while she dragged a slightly protesting Pure-blood, she hastily grabbed her textbooks and other sundries and rushed back down towards the Potions Classroom in the dungeons as quick as they could.

As they were hurrying along in companionable silence, Pandora had to just ask something that had been bubbling within her for quite a while now.

Pandora was highly astute and tried to hide this fact all the time, well… mostly all the time, "Hey Ana, I noticed you don't like being called ' _princess'_ , what's up with that?" she pointed out, lazily tossing some hair over her shoulder.

Ariana visibly flinched, her eyes darting around in nervousness as if somebody was going to pounce on her, "I…I just don't like titles," she mumbled almost incoherently under her breath.

Pandora gave a scandalous gasp, "So you _are_ royalty then! Are you hiding amongst us peasant folk, or perhaps concealing yourself from your family to avoid an arranged marriage?" she asked in a dead serious manner.

Ariana opened her mouth and closed it several times, unsure whether the other girl was joking, before breaking out laughter as she soon realized the other girl was just teasing, "That would be telling," she sang back mischievously as she moved her eyebrows in a indicative and rather comical manner.

As the other girl's small smile grew into one that was fully fledged, Ariana inhaled sharply as she was struck by a sudden realization.

She had never properly interacted with other girls her age as a girl before, so this particular platonic intimacy was certainly marking a new experience for her. With girls, she found out that there were significantly more conversations, more interactions, and more connectivity than being with her male peers in her past life.

It was kind of… pleasant.

They began chattering animatedly as their pace slowed down, down to small and leisurely steps as they meandered through the massive castle to their destination.

"…and poor Father has been victim to some of my more exciting jinxes," Pandora said with a suppressed giggle as they neared the Potions Classroom.

Ariana instantly noticed the specific wording and strange emphasis in her statement, " _Your_ jinxes?"

"Yup, my parents say I have a knack for spell creation," Pandora proudly informed as she puffed out her chest, "I've already planned out what I'm job going I'm going to pursue after I finish Hogwarts."

Ariana froze for a millisecond, her heart missing a beat as she remembered something that an odd, young girl had told her a long time ago.

 _Didn't Luna say her mother died in an explosion because one of her spells backfired?_

"Dora," she began slowly, "You do know that spell creation is an extremely dangerous line of work… right?"

The other witch adorned a pensive face as she juggled some thoughts around in her mid, "I've only managed to create a few harmless jinxes so far, but I planned to move up the chain once my magical core starts maturing."

"Although..." she added as a contemplative frown sported on her face, "…I've have heard that charms can be quite disastrous if you mess up in the experimental phase,"

Ariana eyes grew brighter as she the other witch argued against herself, "Just have a think about it," she strongly urged with passion.

A loud harrumph behind them interrupted their conversation.

"Ladies, are you going to enter?"

They both whirled around in slight panic at the voice, immediately calming down however, as Professor Slughorn's placid face greeted them.

"Yes, Professor," they chorused in unison, only then realizing that they had been standing outside the Potions Classroom for quite a while.

The class today was a shared one between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students. They filed in obediently and Pandora sat down next to a peculiar-looking boy named Xenophilius, waiting for the hubbub from their classmates to die down so Professor Slughorn could begin the lesson.

"Right," Professor Slughorn started enthusiastically, clapping his hands after the class grew silent, "Today we'll be doing something a bit different."

He bounced over to the blackboard with a youthful spring and scribbled some instructions down quickly, the chalk occasionally grinding painfully on everyone's ears as it scraped across the board in long strokes. After he finished, he turned back to his class with a rather eager look.

"Can anyone guess what sort of potion we will be making today, based on these ingredients?" he quizzed, rapping the board with his knuckles for emphasis.

Ariana narrowed her eyes in confusion as the ingredient list seemed to be unnervingly familiar to her. After no one was brave enough to voice their thoughts, she raised her hand in the air, and after getting a nod, followed through.

"It is... some sort of antidote that somehow relates to a state of unconsciousness, Sir," she spoke up with slight hesitation, feeling a sense of wrongness in the order of the ingredients that the Potions Master had written down.

"Splendid, Miss Peverell," Professor Slughorn beamed, "Five points to Gryffindor."

"What we will be making today is the antidote to the Draught of Living Death," he continued. After noticing a few gasps from the more learned ones, he chuckled as he raised his arms placating.

"I know that some of you might be aware that the Draught of Living Death is seventh-year potion, but I assure you this particular antidote is not," he confidently assured, "Normally, the Wiggenweld Potion is more than effective as a cure, but it is dastardly tedious to make."

"This new potion is a relatively simple antidote that has just not yet been formally introduced into the school syllabus," he explained further without any pause, "I've had special permission from the Society of Potioneers to teach this today," he proudly finished.

Noticing that his students were still looking at him with an air of hesitancy after he stopped talking, he made a shooing motion with his hands, "Well, what are we waiting for? Begin!" he exclaimed in excitement.

Above the clamour of people setting up their cauldrons and gathering ingredients from the cupboard, "Oh – I forgot to mention, this is an individual task, absolutely _no_ sharing of work," he firmly announced over the din, making sure that everyone heard his warning.

Ariana was the last one to access the ingredients cabinet, and after she reached there, looked blankly between the shelves which housed all the school's ingredients and back to the blackboard a couple of times, wondering what was irking her so with today's instructions.

With a nonchalant shrug, she grabbed all the prescribed items and zigzagged her way back to her seat as she dismissed all other thoughts from her head.

 _Right, let's do this._

An hour of frantic yelling, miniature explosions, and blackened faces quickly passed as everyone struggled to stay on top of their work within the time limit.

Professor Slughorn casually strolled between tables every now and then, peering into cauldrons, giving helpful and insightful tips, and occasionally casting quick vanishing spells on bubbling concoctions that were rumbling ominously. He didn't try to set the rigid boundary between teacher and student that every other educator did, but rather acted like a personal mentor to everyone and anyone.

Truly, a unique teacher for his time.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, you have five minutes left," he loudly stated after around an hour had almost elapsed, his words causing the already panicked first-years to go into even more of a frenzy as they rushed to perform the final steps.

He then noticed that he had been overlooking one particular student during his rounds, one that was huddling in the corner, hunched over a faintly smoking cauldron. Frowning when he saw blue wispy stands rising up from the pot, he immediately made his way over, soon realizing that the particular person was his favourite student when he drew closer.

"My dear girl, your potion shouldn't be emitting vapours in those colours. Where did you-" he exclaimed, shutting his mouth mid-sentence as young witch violently snapped her head up and stared intensely into his face, looking strangely exhausted beyond measure.

Slughorn then scanned the table she was working on, noticing that traces of powdered moonstone, dittany, valerian roots, and aconite lay scattered on its wooden surface without form or order. These particular ingredients were _not_ specified in the instructions.

His eyes were then strangely drawn to the bubbling pot that was sputtering sporadically next to him, the mixture seemed to have no viscosity as it effortlessly swirled around with an iridescent sheen, the curls of the light blue fumes enticing him to get a closer look.

"Miss Peverell… why the extra ingredients?" he asked lowly as he wrenched his eyes away, nonverbally and secretly casting a silencing ward around them as an inkling of an idea rose to the top of his mind.

Ariana chewed on her lip in disquietude as she struggled to find a suitable answer, "The instructions didn't seem… right," she emphatically declared.

Slughorn raised an enquiring eyebrow, "Some of these are rather expensive ingredients," he informed seriously, crossing his arms in expectance of a reasonable explanation, "Especially the copious amounts of aconite – or wolfsbane – that you've used in your potion."

Ariana shook her head vigorously, "No sir, you don't understand, it _needed_ it," she passionately protested, animatedly gesturing as she tried to delineate her thoughts, knowing that she had seen this potion somewhere before once.

Slughorn then cast his eyes back to the simmering concoction as he dismissed the baseless proclamation, his mind working backwards as he tried his best to deconstruct the process that created her potion. He then gave a gasp soon after as he realized her creation was residing in almost perfect harmony, with no signs of volatility or instability present in the slightest.

"What a delightfully innovative choice of ingredients," he murmured under his breath in wonder, a nebulous theory forming in his mind as he looked back up.

The young witch certainly had his undivided attention now.

"Ariana, please answer me truthfully," he said with an unsmiling face, "Have you ever crossed paths with a wizard named Potioneer Damocles?"

Ariana glanced upward at the question, her mouths pursed but slightly open and loose as she perused her thoughts, "The name faintly rings a bell," she slowly answered after a short pause as she looked back at the Professor, "However, I have no recollection of ever meeting him in person."

Slughorn have a small sigh of relief as he straightened his back, "You don't mind if I… take this potion then? Just to check the best way to dispose it without any danger, of course," he added quickly.

As Ariana opened her mouth in what seemed like protest, he raised his hand calmly as he misread her, "Don't worry, you're getting full marks for today's assessment," he assured.

Without waiting for her confirmation, he cancelled the silencing ward around them, noise once again flooding back into their ears from the group of active first-years as he walked to the front of the class.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he shouted, garnering the attention of his class, "Your time is up, please drop all your ladles and knives."

The lesson ended swiftly as he inspected each and every cauldron, giving a brief overview to them all after before dismissing the class.

Hours quickly passed.

Slughorn was still in the same position long after the students were long gone, stirring the glistening mixture as he took measurements and referred to large open tomes ever so often, the sweat on his brow signifying the laborious intensity of his research.

"Seven years, Damocles," Slughorn muttered, stirring the mysterious liquid as he ruminated, "Seven tiresome years of your life experimenting day and night… only to overlook the fact that moonstone and dittany bonded together provide the perfect catalyst for valerian roots to successfully break down the poison in wolfsbane."

He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, removing flecks of ingredients and dirt that had coated his face in a thin layer. He then looked out of the window, the soft evening rays hitting his fatigued yet energized face.

"Old friend, I think it's time to chat about something that could revolutionize the entire Wizarding world… something that a certain young witch had just accidentally discovered in her Potions class."

* * *

 _The next night_

"…and it's only fair that I should come," Ariana said stubbornly as she crossed her arms in remonstration, looking at the aged wizard expectedly with a slight tilt of her head.

Albus pinched the top of his brow as he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, thinking hard about the best way to compromise with her desire.

"Very well," he slowly acquiesced, a stern look quickly replacing his tired one, "Only under the condition that you will imbibe doses of Polyjuice every hour and subject yourself to a Glamour Charm in addition."

Ariana scrunched up her face as she thought over the offer, "Won't the excess of magic paradoxically draw more unwanted attention though?" she asked in slight uneasiness, knowing that Voldemort had extremely powerful witches and wizards at his side who could too, detect magic.

"It's worth it. I rather that than people knowing who you really are," Albus said firmly as he began gathering up papers on his desk and arranging them into one neat pile.

"You will take on the appearance of someone of my choosing, a nondescript character who will blend naturally into a crowd. I also recall that you've ingested the Polyjuice Potion once before to transform into the opposite sex, in your… second year was it? You should be familiar with male physiology then, and hopefully all will go smoothly."

Ariana struggled to suppress a mad chuckle which bubbled up within her and threatened to burst as she nodded in response, "Yes… I'm well aware of how the male body functions."

Albus raised an eyebrow but ignored the slightly odd emphasis in her sentence as he pressed forward, "We leave tomorrow morning. If anyone asks, you will be away in Scotland for a few days sorting out legal documents relating to your family."

"And if what you said previously holds true," he continued as he clasped his hands and put them his desk, "You are our only window into Tom Riddle's mind."

Ariana's eyes grew shadowy from the layered comment as insidious thoughts that seemingly didn't belong to her rose up and whispered in her ears.

 _Once again, you are nothing but a mere weapon to him... a tool to be used and disposed._

 _Do you think Albus truly cares for you? All he sees is in you is his sist-_

"This scar on your head is extremely fascinating," Albus carried on, breaking her poisonous thoughts, some strange light brimming in his calculating blue eyes, "It's a pity that you don't remember much about it though," he added, sighing in disappointment.

Ariana furrowed her brow in confusion as she left her previous thoughts instantly vanished, "What do you mean?"

Albus fidgeted slightly, "I think I mentioned this to you before, but when you first came to me, I quietly scanned the corners of your mind – just to check that you weren't a spy from Voldemort of course," he disclosed, "But all I found were a swath of hazy mist on the memories from the period before you time-travelled."

Noticing that the young witch was staying silent, he brightly continued, "Notwithstanding, the stories you've been regaling me with of your past seems to indicate that you've recovered the majority of them."

Ariana felt her tongue folding inwards as she tried to explain herself. Giving up without resistance as she knew that she would not win, she tried a different approach.

"So what you are saying is… my memories are naturally defended against Legilimency?" she wondered out loud, eyes glazing over as her mind churned out ideas.

"That's certainly an odd way to put it – but yes," Albus replied after a short pause, "However, your current thoughts and emotions are as plain as day to read if I were to skim across the surface of your mind. Not that I need to do that to know what are you feeling," he lightly teased, chuckling as his characteristic twinkle began to blossom in his heavenly blue eyes.

Ariana immediately blushed in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly as she internally agreed with him, glad that she was slowly reining in control of her larger outbursts day by day.

Albus then lost most traces of humour, "Voldemort's erratic movements has forced us act much earlier than what we initially predicted. Since we are mobilizing the Order of the Phoenix this prematurely, we only have precious months to act before Voldemort figures out our strategies have changed."

"Now go, have a good night's sleep. You will need it."

Ariana nodded and said her goodbyes to the venerable Headmaster, quickly exiting as she collected her thoughts, her entire body brimming with boundless energy and anticipation.

 _The months of economical and geopolitical preparation, training, buying and selling loyalties, subterfuge and sacrifice, will at last begin to build upon the foundations of what you and I, Albus, have painstakingly built._

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as stood silently in the tranquillity of the silent castle, knowing that from tomorrow onwards, reality could take its place as her final arbiter in the grand journey that is life.

 _At long last, we begin._

* * *

A/N: I'm alive… (Yay!)

To be honest, I thought I would reach this point in the story after five chapters, not eighteen. Oh well, all that means is… there's lots more to come!

Thanks for all the comments and stay tuned!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 19**

The world was completely silent, as if it had ended in the night. The sun was still resolutely below the horizon as two dark figures appeared from around a corner to an empty and silhouetted street, brittle leaves and wayward sticks crunching underneath their boots as they made for a large open space situated at the far end of a cul-de-sac.

"What about my Glamour Charm, sir?" whispered a boy with short, sandy brown hair and black eyes in around his twenties through the chill of the morning, the swift action of moving legs providing what little warmth it could to stave off the cold.

The other older individual leaned backwards slightly and critically inspected his companion through the murkiness while they moved, noting the speaker's body, facial structure, eyes and other features screamed average and quickly forgettable.

"The Polyjuice alone is fine... for now," the aged wizard decided.

Ariana nodded, patting the inside of her dark robes just one more time to make sure the flask of Polyjuice Potion was safely secured in her pocket. Her thoughts were then disrupted as a wizened hand fell on her shoulder, causing her to halt.

"We're here. Read this, quickly," Albus murmured without an explanation, unceremoniously shoving a small piece of paper in front of her face.

Ariana squinted in the dimness but was able to faintly make out the words that were written on it, "You are… cordially welcome to the House of McKinnon?" she read out loud with some hesitation.

She gave a small jump in shock as a large and imposing house suddenly shimmered into existence, replacing a small field of grass which was previously in its place. She calmed her heart down as she gazed upon the shadowy edifice, noting that some of the windows were illuminated from the inside – signalling that they were not the first to arrive.

 _Ah yes – the Fidelius Charm, just like for Grimmauld Place then._

The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows upon rows of skeletal trees crowned in dark crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood a delicate marble fountain, where the soft gurgling of the clear water melodically resonated in the surrounding silence.

With a satisfied nod at the outcome, Albus slipped the piece of paper back into his pocket and looked around surreptitiously one final time before opening the front gate to let them in the grounds.

Upon entering through the main doors, Ariana noted with a pleasant hum that the interior was rather welcoming and aesthetic, a stark difference from the dismal and sombre tone that her previous headquarters in her past life held.

The antechamber fed to a wide circular room that branched off into multiple doorways as spotless armoires stood by their doorframes, acting akin to sentries. The floor was lined with warm cedar wood while the ceiling boasted a large and florid chandelier. With an elegant set of stairs that was accompanied by a glossy balustrade, the room was truly a magnificent sight.

"Lo and behold, he finally arrives," a voice dramatically called out from the top of the stairs.

Albus gave an amused snort as a young man leisurely hopped down the stairs, two and three steps at a time – never once stumbling – until he came to the landed on the safety of flat ground in front of the new arrivals. Ariana knew instantly which family he belonged to.

"Hello Fabian," Albus warmly greeted as they shook hands, "All is well I hope?"

"Everything's good on my side," the red haired individual amiably replied as he nodded. Getting the pleasantries out of the way, they both then traded information, one concerning administration, while the other regarding the wellbeing of a rather vivacious sister which went by the name of Molly Prewett.

As the two of them conversed, Ariana suddenly shivered as she felt a small pulse of unseen magic caress her skin, causing her to whip her head in the direction it came from. Pausing temporarily to ascertain that she would be missing nothing important in Albus and Fabian's discussion, she then curiously meandered in the direction of the magic's genesis, slipping away without either of the two noticing her departure.

As she tip-toed down the decorated hallway, she felt the same wave of magic once more, this time however, slowly enveloping her form entirely in a loving embrace. The intensity of each pulse grew more pronounced with every step. Before long, her feet subconsciously led her to a stop in front of a large and imposing door, one that was coloured midnight black with gilded doorframes.

 _Why does this magic feel so… familiar?_

Her hand reached out slowly and clutched the handle tentatively, turning it and warily peeking through the crack in the doorway. Affirming that the room was currently unoccupied after scanning its dark recesses, she opened the door fully and entered, paying no heed to the fact that she left the door open behind her.

It was obviously a storage room, one where neatly stacked crates, sealed boxes, dustless receptacles and magically protected chests lay side by side with each other against the walls of the room in congruity. There was only one item however, that called to Ariana's senses, one which – she could tell – took residence within a particularly nondescript box in the far end of the room.

She easily and nimbly leapt, ducked, and weaved past the miscellaneous objects in the room to reach her goal, much more confident in the movement of her new body as its stature was almost identical to when she was Harry.

Upon reaching the small box that lay on a wooden table, she noted with small surprise that there was were neither magical enchantments nor physical locks present to deter pilferers. A heightened sense of curiosity nipped at the corners her mind as she slowly raised the detachable lid to reveal what lay within in. The pulses of magic vanished into nothingness as she placed the lid next to the open box.

She finally gazed upon a small trinket that lay innocently on a soft velvet cushion and inhaled sharply, instantly recognizing what it was. Just as she was about to reach for it, an overwhelmingly familiar voice caused her to freeze.

"You know, in certain societies, it isn't polite for a guest to wander around as he pleases," a gruff voice called out from behind her back.

Ariana retracted her hand quickly and whirled around to face the speaker that was standing in the doorway, her heart lightening as she gazed upon arguably one of the most powerful Aurors that the Ministry could boast of in the future.

"You have two eyes," she blankly responded after a brief period of silence, unnerved at how different a young Alastor Moody looked without his assortment of scars on his face, his ever-spinning biomagical eye, and his clawed, wooden leg.

"You're quite observant, laddie," Moody deadpanned back in the same tone.

 _Oh yeah, I forgot that I'm now a guy again._

 _This is confusing…_

Ariana sheepishly ruffled the short hair on the back of her head and quickly sorted her thoughts out. "Sorry about that, I just wanted to explore the house before we got down to business," she lied smoothly.

Moody harrumphed at her response and narrowed his eye to look at the contents ontop of the wooden table near her, easily discerning what lay on its surface, even from a distance.

"Ah, I see you've found the prized McKinnon Time-Turner," he rumbled loudly as he crossed his arms, his dark and formal robes moving in accordance to the action, "A bloody shame that its broken though," he continued with an annoyed sigh.

Ariana's mind grew calculating as she assessed this version of the Mad-Eye Moody, briefly dismissing what he had just said and her mind came to a few conclusions.

 _Moody is nowhere near as suspicious as I expected him to be. Maybe he turned out that way after the First War?_

Her eyes then widened as her mind caught up to the present and realized what the older wizard had just said.

 _Wait, did he just say that…_

"It's broken?" she echoed in confusion.

"Aye," Moody replied in a gravelly voice. It seemed that no matter how he spoke, there was always an intrinsic gutturalness that lacquered his words. "It had greatly and faithfully aided us for some the Order's missions in the past," he added, "Nevermore, it seems."

Ariana shook her head in dubiousness, "You're wrong, it's still functional," she strongly protested, turning around and carefully picking up the delicate artifact in one controlled motion.

As soon as her fingers touched the curiously shaped curio, the sand within the small hourglass that was encased by two silver bands, slowly began to move of their own accord. The golden grains within picked up speed as it swirled and crashed against the glass confines in undulating ripples, rivalling the untameable swells of a tempestuous sea.

Ariana cried out in an alarm as the Time-Turner seemingly activated, the rings slowly rotating and spinning as life was breathed into the object once more.

"Well, I'll be damned… the ruddy thing is working again," Moody muttered in surprise as his brow furrowed in confusion.

Noticing that the younger man was still visibly panicking, he called out loudly, "Don't fret now, that's just how it normally acts. It's quite the feisty little bugger."

Ariana slowly calmed down when she ascertained that the device wasn't going to whisk to some unknown time period against her will… as a certain Time-Turner already did once before. She lifted it up by an attached strap to give it a closer look, the ever-shifting sands almost hypnotizing her and causing her mind to wander into the most dangerous of thoughts.

 _I wonder… how easy would it be, if I could just go back all the way back in time and prevent Voldemort from ever being born?_

So absorbed was she of her thoughts, that she had failed to notice that Moody had appeared by her side to also inspect the gyrating artifact. She managed to suppress a rather feminine squeak that she was so used to emitting from the brief shock as his face suddenly came into view.

"That dreamy look on your face suggests that you fancy some time travel of your own. A word of caution – stay far away from that perilous path," Moody warned in a low voice, all traces of humour absent from his voice, "Live to fight another day on your own terms I always say… not on something as whimsical as time."

Ariana gave a large sigh as she lowered the Time-Turner and placed it back into its rightful abode, remembering that the gruff wizard could also be sagacious when he wanted to be. "You're right, I guess it's always appropriate to espouse constant vigilance," she half-smirked, cheekily remembering the precept that was basically the source of his paranoia in the future.

Moody narrowed his eyes and studied the other wizard, " _Constant vigilance_ ," he slowly repeated as something akin to an epiphany struck him. "A most elegant expression indeed," he muttered to himself, "I'll be sure to remember that one."

As the other wizard was musing, Ariana realized that although she knew who the other person was, he had no idea who she was.

"Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I'm-"

"Hold that thought," Moody interrupted as his hand jumped to a something that was vibrating in his side pocket, "The meeting is starting now. We'll get properly acquainted there."

He then took a step back and gave her a once over as he rubbed his chin with his hand.

"From what I see lad, it looks like you've got a good head on you. Let's hope we can put that to good use," he said, looking strangely energized for some reason. He then turned to leave and walked across the room, and after noticing that was the younger wizard was still stationary, he gave an amused snort as he raised one brow.

"Well, are you waiting for a written invitation?"

Ariana realized with a start that her hand was still subconsciously glued to the Time-Turner and quickly wrenched her hand away, grabbing the cover and placing it over the top to seal the box once more before turning to follow Moody out.

What she couldn't see under the lid however, was that as soon as her fingers left the powerful artifact, the sands of time slowly stopped moving, grinding to a halt as it deactivated once more, useless and unresponsive to the touch any wizard or witch alive in the world… save one.

* * *

"… and now we will discuss the more important developments," Albus announced to a motley group of people that were sitting around a circular table in front of him, his confident face showing no signs of weariness although he had been standing and talking nonstop for the past two hours.

Ariana, in all honestly, had been zoning out as her Headmaster talked, the eclectic topic of raw logistics was too exhausting for her young body, albeit taking the form of a young adult, to cope with this early in the morning.

 _Albus, you… you never warned me about this._ She thought with a childish whine, naively thinking that magical strength and carefully thought out skirmishes were the only things the Order of the Phoenix dealt with.

 _This sort of stuff is so different from the Order in the future, where the only thing we did was prepare ourselves to fight and survive._

 _Instead of that we have… planned liquidation? Implementation of a Laissez-faire system? Trade liberalization?_

 _Ugh… I should really have read more books on these sorts of things._

As her boredom peaked, she quietly scanned the room for what was the fifth time since the meeting had started, looking at each individual and searing their features into her mind.

 _Okay, so going from left to right, we have Sturgis Podmore, Marlene McKinnon, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Alastor Moody, and one more hooded wizard who which Albus hasn't introduced yet._

 _Hold on… this current list – pre-James and his ilk – seems a bit short. Where is Professor McGonagall? Albus also told me once that his brother was in the Order too... and there are other seats that are empty as well…_

She sat there humming and hawing about the situation and almost as if Albus had been reading her mind, broke her out of her thoughts as he changed the topic.

"Unfortunately, the others can't with us today because I've stationed them to oversee Hogwarts and the Ministry in my absence," Albus informed, finally sitting down on a cushioned wooden chair as he felt his age finally catch up to him, the strain in his legs a testament to that, "It is unwise for all of us to disappear at such short notice as too many suspicions will be aroused."

He then clapped his hands loudly, "Enough of that then, it's time for strategic updates," he continued. As if he had said a magic phrase, everyone sat up straighter and leaned forwards, clearly not wanting to miss a single word that was going to be discussed.

"Firstly, Alastor deserves a pat on the back for completing the Auror training in what was record time, thus becoming one of the youngest Aurors in the Ministry of Magic's history. With his mastery over multiple branches of magic, I was hardly surprised when I saw the results," Albus reported as he beamed with visible pride, causing the said wizard to flush slightly from the praise.

" _Finally_ ," Elphias Doge yelled loudly, causing the other members to jump slightly and look at him in slight annoyance.

"Sorry," he apologized unabashedly, "It's just that I finally don't need to sneak around the Auror's department anymore. Everyone there is too paranoid and uncooperative for my liking," Elphias grumbled with a roll of his eyes as he leaned back in his chair in slight relief.

After allowing everyone to take a slight break to congratulate the new Auror, Albus then cleared his throat to garner everyone's attention once again, his sky blue eyes twinkling with hidden excitement as he gestured to the silent, hooded man that sat to his right as a cue to begin speaking.

The mysterious man clasped his hands together, placing them on the wooden table as he leaned forward and began speaking, "Strict magic oaths forbid me to reveal myself to anyone, so I will forgo any sort of introductions," he tersely started.

The rest of the members, bar Albus, looked at each other in uncertainty from the bizarre greeting before muttering amongst themselves in slight confusion. The speaker then calmly raised an arm to quieten them down once more, knowing that this was an expected reaction. After it was silent again, he continued.

"There is a sound reason for this. I can say this much at least, I'm…" he motioned to his strange attire, "…an Unspeakable."

This time however, audible gasps resonated throughout the room from the proclamation.

"So this means… we'll now have an operative inside the Auror's Office _as well_ as the Department of Mysteries?" Marlene McKinnon slowly enunciated as realization dawned upon her, and turned towards Albus with shining eyes, "Has Christmas arrived early?" she breathed.

Albus gave a small chuckle as he felt everyone's spirits rise, his eyes twinkling even brighter as he knew the best part was yet to come.

The shrouded man's deep voice easily smothered the others as he stated his second, and decidedly more nefarious position, "I also serve the new Dark Lord, Voldemort," he said loudly in an almost nonchalantly manner, giving a casual twirl of his wrist.

Time seemed to freeze in the room as each person processed the sentence differently, each mind circulating a profusion of thoughts through their brains as they registered what he said.

Ariana's heart missed a beat.

 _No, NO… this is all wrong. The Order never someone who was behind enemy lines until Snape arrived. Who is this person?_

Moody, the ever level-headed wizard, was the first to break the silence, "So Mr Unspeakable, what is the chance of success of you walking up to Voldemort, catching him off guard, and blasting him into oblivion?" he asked coolly, fully trusting in Albus' decision to invite this man to their headquarters.

The man gave an amused snort at the practical question, "I have exactly a zero per cent chance of succeeding," he said with absolute certainty, "Voldemort is either mad or does not fear death… and he is _not_ the former, I assure you."

Gideon Prewett then spoke up for the first time that morning with a calculating glint in his eye, "How did you become one of these so-called Death Eaters?"

The Unspeakable shrugged, "I was offered a _once in a lifetime_ opportunity to work with the Dark Lord via a careful selection process, led by the one and only Lucius Malfoy," he revealed.

Gideon tightened his lips before speaking, "And how… were you selected?"

"Let's see… there a couple of factors. Firstly, I'm in an influential position of power. Secondly, I'm a Pure-blood," the man listed after a thoughtful hum, using his fingers for emphasis. "Oh – and lastly, I abhor Muggle-borns."

The occupants around the table erupted into a cacophonic and righteous fury from the last statement, deafening the speaker until he had enough and made a slashing motion in the air, nonverbally silencing everyone – as well as showing his prowess in the magical arts.

"Let me be very clear on something," he began coldly, "I have no love for Muggle-borns and their ilk, but Voldemort is an entity that must be stopped. His ideal world is one that thrives on an autocratic system which will ultimately bring the Wizarding World to its knees, Pure-blood or not."

"This is where my offer for a partnership stands. If however, you choose to oust me, then I will then find my own way to stop Voldemort regardless."

There was something off about this particular individual to Ariana, the way he spoke, his manner, his… _magic._ It was unnerving familiar as she knew she has come across it before, her thoughts subconsciously causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. She began to cross out Death Eaters off in her head against the one sitting across to her.

"Take your hood off," she suddenly barked as her mind made an inkling of a connection, easily untangling the silencing magic around her throat, her loud command gathering the attention of the room on her.

The Unspeakable gave a start of surprise at her ability to speak but quickly regained his composure as he shook his head while cancelling the silencing ward he cast, "There is no point-"

" _Now."_

Looking at Albus for reaffirmation, and after receiving a nod to comply, the concealed man slowly folded back his strangely patterned hood to reveal a face with charcoal black eyes, a pointed jaw, and wild hair that stuck out in every direction.

"Very few people know my fac-"

"Augustus Rookwood, of the Inner Circle," Ariana snarled as her eidetic memory kicked in, jumping to her feet and brandishing her wand at him in hostility, memories her skirmish at the Department of Mysteries in her fifth year as plain as day in her mind.

Augustus widened his eyes in shock temporarily, but instead of panicking or reaching for his own wand, threw his head back and laughed gaily, "Thank you, whoever you are," he said with a maddened and elated grin, "Since you revealed my true identity, the binding magic can no longer confine my words when I speak with those present in this room."

Albus felt magic ominously stirring as Ariana refused to back down from her position. Noting that the room was visibly darkening from the coalescence of wrathful magic, he immediately jumped into action.

"Stand down," Albus barked, nonverbally and forcefully summoning her wand to his hand his when he saw an unnatural rage in her eyes, almost as if a serpent was rising up within them.

The sound of his voice seemed to break Ariana out of whatever she was doing as she blinked twice owlishly when her wand left her hand, looking around in slight confusion as the room slowly brightened to its original state.

Realizing that everyone was staring at her, she noisily cleared her throat as she pressed one hand to the temple of her head, not looking at Augustus as she continued speaking as if nothing had happened, "Your left arm… does it have the Dark Mark yet?"

Augustus' muscles tensed as his face immediately omitted all signs of glee he was previously displaying, "How do you know about that," he lowly intoned, finally realizing that he was dealing with someone who was extremely well-informed.

"The mark," Ariana responded emotionlessly as she ignored his question, her burning eyes piercing his as they gazed through fingers that were still rubbing her strangely aching forehead, "Show it."

Augustus looked extremely unwilling at first, but then gave a sigh as he rolled up his left sleeve to display his inner forearm to initially display perfectly pristine skin. After murmuring an unintelligible incantation under his breath, an image began to slowly form on his arm; the colour of poisonous black staining his arm as it insidiously swirled and morphed, finally taking shape into a symbol the young witch knew all too well.

Satisfied that the tattoo the genuine from the disgustingly magic it was emitting, Ariana sat back down with a heavy sigh as her mind moved with terrifying speed.

 _What could possibly cause this man's path to deviate from being a devout and high-ranking Death Eater?_

 _History is changing so quickly…_

 _Albus was right all along; our actions are truly akin a pebble dropped into the middle of a very still lake._

It took her a mere second to reorganize her thoughts as she dipped her head slightly towards Augustus, "My apologies, Unspeakable Rookwood, I was acting rashly and I hope you can put that behind us," she said in a composed manner, slightly confused herself as to why she acted so belligerently.

"No harm done," the rough-looking wizard said solemnly, acknowledging the sincere apology, "And please, call me Augustus… as with everyone," he added as he looked at the silent observers in the room.

"That request can be easily granted, Augustus," Albus unsmiling started, "However, in regards to your offer of cooperation…" he stopped as he looked around the room and gazed into the eyes of each person before turning back with a warm smile, "…we would like to formally welcome you to the Order of the Phoenix."

Augustus gave an audible sigh of relief from his approval into the secretive clique, as he realized that he would have some of the most powerful wizards and witches by his side in a conflict he had planned to originally tackle alone.

"It takes a lot of courage to stand up to the Dark Lord. More so, to act as a spy," Albus continued solemnly, "If you ever require aid, you shall have it," he promised.

After around an hour or so of the new member taking multiple Unbreakable Vows, testing his Occulumency shield to the limit, and becoming acquainted with the rest of the Order, the group regrouped in the meeting room at Albus' request as the sun rose higher in the sky.

"Albus, I know we're saving the world and stuff, but can we do so with a full stomach?" Fabian groaned loudly, clutching his belly as it sporadically gave out a noise so disturbing that it was practically indistinguishable from the mating call of a fully grown troll.

"Quit your whining, lad," Moody barked, "In my final year of Auror training, I had to survive for four days with nothing to eat but giant mutated spiders in the heart of the Congo Rain Forest."

"Anything but spiders," Fabian said as she shuddered in discomfort when the topic of arachnids was brought up, "Also, can you please stop calling me 'lad'? You're only a few years older than me…"

"It's good enough," Moody growled.

Ariana hid a smile behind her hand as she tried her hardest to suppress a giggle. _Now that's the Mad-Eye Moody I know._

Marlene raised an eyebrow in amusement at the interaction before turning towards her leader, "So, there are more strategic updates? You've certainly been keeping busy, Albus."

Albus' face fell as he silently nodded.

Realizing something more serious at hand, all jollity within the group disappeared as they fell silent and focused their attention on the revered wizard.

"Elphias, have any of your contacts within the Ministry recently disappeared?" Albus began with a strangely tired look on his face.

"I was actually planning to bring this up with you later, Albus." Elphias replied with a worried frown, "Caradoc Dearborn, my informant in the Department of Magical Property, hasn't been responding to my summons since yesterday morning."

Ariana's eyes were downcast when she took over the conversation, "Did Caradoc ever wear robes that were dark grey, with two black stripes running down the right shoulder?" she said in a hollow voice.

Elphias' frown deepened as he turned towards the young man that was addressing him, "Well, yes. All employees in his department are required to wear that to work."

"Did… did he also have a pendant with a picture of a woman and a young girl in his breast pocket?"

Elphias' mouth opened and shut a few times before deciding to speak, "Yes… but how did you know? Are you friends with Caradoc as well?"

Albus gave a sorrowful sigh as he saw the tiny nod from Ariana, and ran a hand over his face before speaking, "My dear friend," he quietly started, "Mr Dearborn was murdered yesterday at the very hands of Lord Voldemort."

Elphias immediately froze, his face turning deathly pale as blood drained from his face in horror. A range of emotions swept violently across his face as he gripped the sides of his chair in an unrelenting grip, the fibres under his skin writhing in accordance to his emotions. It took a full minute for the light to be restored into his deadened eyes.

"He… he would often tell me stories about his family," he murmured in a quavering voice. "Even though I was always disguised, he would constantly try to invite me over for lunch, but I would always decline... just in-case I was followed or something." He covered his eyes with a trembling hand, "It's my fault for being so careless."

Augustus stood up with a tight look on his face, "You assumed that your ally was untouchable because he was a Pure-blood. Recently however, the Dark Lord's directives have changed," he spat in disgust, the news of the death of another Pure-blood deepening his hatred for his Master.

Elphias' face grew dark as turned to Albus, "How did you come by this knowledge?"

Ariana met her Headmaster's eyes for a brief second, and knew it was time to tell only half-truths, as the raw knowledge would be far too dangerous for anyone else to know. The duo had discussed this in great detail and knew that Voldemort was an unparalleled master in Legilimency. If anyone was to get captured and the knowledge of Horcruxes was torn from their mind, every last pillar of their hard work would crumble down into nothingness.

Ariana realized that this was her cue and stood up with a silent sigh, planting herself next to Albus at the head of the table as she waited for him to introduce her.

"My apologies to everyone, for keeping the new members a mystery right until the very end," Albus began "But the answer to your question Elphias," he continued as he motioned, "Has to do with this young man beside me."

"Everyone, please welcome… Harold."

A short silence stained the air as Ariana gathered up her thoughts and hardened her will. She opened her mouth once her mind was clear.

"I will not draw this out, as there is much work to be done today," Ariana started unsmilingly, subconsciously shifting back into her role as a leader as she began pacing back and forth, "Please refrain from all questions until I finish."

"Voldemort is a wizard that has performed forbidden rituals and ancient rites for decades in order to augment and strengthen his body. There was one flaw in his plan however, _his mind_ ," she emphasized. "Using a method that I will not disclose, I can rarely and successfully… infiltrate his mind in order to see his innermost thoughts."

"For example, Augustus," she addressed as whirled to face the Unspeakable, "Voldemort has told you that there would be a surprise attack on Diagon Alley in two days' time did he not?" Before the said man could respond, she cut him off, "He actually intends to use your group as bait to draw out the Order, while he and some others head for Azkaban."

Albus' voice lightly skimmed the surface on her mind as he turned and made eye contact with her. _You haven't told me about this._

 _I had another vision last night._ Ariana thought with an apologetic shrug. _It slipped my mind until now, sorry._

Moody's face turned extremely calculating as he rubbed his chin, "Azkaban," he growled, "Many a powerful wizard has tried to siege that fortress, only to fail miserably. What could he possibly hope to achieve?"

"His targets are not the prisoners, Alastor," Ariana replied as she shook her head slowly, "He is after something much darker and sinister. They are beings of torment and nightmare, of frigid death and sorrow… the Dementors themselves."

 _Wait…_ She suddenly thought, tapping her lower lip with a finger as she adopted a troubled countenance.

 _Did Voldemort even recruit Dementors at all during the First War?_

 _First dragons, now this…_

 _The advantage that Albus and I are holding onto so tightly… is slowly but surely slipping away day by day as we deviate away from the annals of history._

"Well? What are we waiting for?" Moody loudly barked as he thumped the table, his rough voice easily drowning out all other trivial noises, "We have work to do."

The rest of the day then quickly melted away into nightfall as the re-energized powerhouse of witches and wizards planned out their next strategic moves under the dim candlelight, not knowing for the entire world that their future actions would soon tear at the very fabric of creation itself, ever so slightly.

* * *

 _2 days later_

"Al, time is running short," Ariana whispered urgently, her mouth inches away from the older wizard ear as she cupped her mouth, a second precaution in case her silencing ward was somehow broken, "How close are you to finding the whereabouts of all the Horcruxes?"

The light tapping of shoes upon cobblestone echoed through the alley and danced melodically off the walls as the aroma of freshly served sea bass wafted out from a nearby café. The midday sun shone down in narrow shafts in the quaint alleyway while the heady scent of flowers slowly drifted down from nearby window boxes to two seated figures.

"I'm getting closer," Albus murmured back in quiet confidence, "His diary was the easiest to track down. A relatively simple hunt in the bowels of the Malfoy Manor proved fruitful. Thank Merlin that my prior knowledge I obtained as a guest at the manor proved useful. It's a complete maze in that ghastly place."

Albus grimaced and spouted an uncomfortable look before continuing, "I did get seen by someone however, as the perfusion of magic that diluted the entirety of his basement and surrounding rooms deadened most of my senses."

He pulled at the collar of his robe as he gave an awkward cough, "I had to err… subdue him and wipe his memory before quickly absconding," he told, looking slightly embarrassed at being caught.

Ariana's eyes widened as she realized who he was talking about and bit her fingernails in nervousness, "I truly hope Voldemort doesn't notice the missing gap in Lucius Malfoy's mind before we strike," she muttered with a worried look on her face.

"We'll deal with it when the time comes; there is nothing we can do now" Albus spoke in a hushed tone, "Now, I must leave you," he continued in a louder voice as he stood up in finality, dusting some stray leaves off his billowy black robes, "You remember the plan?"

Ariana nodded tensely, "I'll assist in taking care of the Death Eaters that appear in Diagon Alley. Since we don't know where exactly they'll be attacking, I'll wait for the sign from another member of the Order – which are spread out all round this area – before launching our counter-attack. While this is happening, you will be ambushing Voldemort at Azkaban."

Albus nodded with satisfaction at the Glamoured and Polyjuiced girl, and adorned a half smile at the sight of a small pout, "I know you want to confront Tom yourself, but it is not yet time. Please stay safe… Ariana," he murmured under his breath before quickly turning on the spot and Disapparating. The sound that was left behind from the spell resembled a crack of thunder and was safely muted by the still active silencing ward.

With a lazy flick of her wand, Ariana's invisible barrier dissipated into nothingness. She smiled dreamily as she gazed at the tiny interwoven magical runes that were disentangling themselves at her command in the air, the intricacy and precision of the dark green, translucent threads slipping out of existence filling her with a sliver of satisfaction.

Her half-lidded eyes then widened in shock as two figures lunged out of the shadows, clamping onto each of her shoulders in a tight hold as they placed her at an interposition between each body.

"Hey Harold-"

"-what sort of secrets-"

"-do you have-"

"-with dear old Albus?"

Ariana turned her head left and right at the grinning red-haired speakers multiple times before giving a fond bark of laughter at the familiar tradition that had succeeded generation after generation it seemed.

"Fabian, Gideon," she greeted gaily, nodding at them respectively even though they were both under the disguise of a Glamour Charm. Incredibly witty with an air of innocence to them, the Prewett brothers were extremely hard to dislike.

Fabian pulled at away with a raised eyebrow, "Such high spirits before the fight? Did Albus give you one of his famous pep talks?" he chattered excitedly as his eyes lit up.

"No, no. It's nothing like that," she replied with a casual and dismissive wave of her hand, "I was just thinking of something in the past."

 _Hmm… do I call it the past or future I wonder?_

"Anyway," she continued as she detached herself from the siblings and picked up a specially designed robe that had Albus' signature Notice-Me-Not charms entwined in the sartorial lacework, "The Death Eaters should arrive in around thirty minutes or so. Let's get ready."

After gathering up vials of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, backup Portkeys and other important items out of a brown trunk, they closed it with a loud bang as they sent it back to their headquarters with a wave of a wand.

"Good luck," she said with a wolfish grin on her face, "And remember, leave none alive."

Gideon nodded solemnly, "You too Harol-… wait what?"

Ariana tiled her head in slight confusion at their alarmed faces, "What?"

"You said… leave none alive."

"Make sure they're all captured I mean," she quickly recovered, biting her tongue in anger at the unconscious statement.

Nodding slowly in uncertainty, they gave her one final glance before Disapparating away, leaving her alone in the now silent alley.

An unnatural gust of cold wind gusted through the alleyway, causing her to shudder as they licked and caressed her skin seductively, causing and outbreak of goose bumps on her arms. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and began pacing around in nervous anticipation.

As each minute passed, her pacing increased with speed until it finally crescendoed into almost a run. Stopping to catch her breath as she realized what she was doing, she then leaned heavily against the wall and let out a troubled sigh.

 _What in Merlin's name is causing me to act like this?_

Time quickly evaporated as she ruminated away, only to be jolted out of her mind as the faint sound of a panic-filled scream followed by an explosion reached her ears. Simultaneously, a magically imbued coin, the Order's way of communicating, vibrated thrice in her pocket.

An ugly snarl appeared on her face as she tightened her grip on her yew wand and prepared to Apparate –a vital spell that Albus had taught her a while back. Her heart was pounding hard against her ribcage as she managed to steady her breath, steeling her will as a red veil draped over her eyes.

 _They're here._


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 20**

Fire has neither culture, nor pity, nor mind. Voracious in appetite, it seeks to consume whatever it pleases with no care for the ash and cinder it leaves behind in its charred wake. There is only one other such phenomenon in existence that could rival the rapacious disposition of flame: the nature of Man.

"Yuck," Ariana muttered in disgust as she popped out of existence and landed with a splash on a black puddle of some foul smelling liquid, her Apparition spell successfully completing without any signs of splinching.

The acrid smell of kindling wood instantly enveloped her nasal cavities while the muted screams she heard earlier were increased tenfold in volume as they pierced the air once again. Looking around quickly to assess where she had ended up, she soon recognized that she was in storeroom of Flourish & Blotts, the magical bookshop of Diagon Alley.

Growling in anger when she felt the air hum with the presence of dark magic, she quickly left the safety of the backroom to enter the main shop. After roughly pushing through a large huddled crowd of visibly terrified witches and wizards, she finally made it out and quickly ran down the street in the direction of the noises, where she was soon greeted with a smouldering crater.

She froze in her tracks as she recognized the fragments of flaming detritus that littered almost the entirety of the street – the broken tables, the abused chairs, and the all but incinerated linen and fabric.

 _This place… once was a peaceful café…._

Out of the corner of her eye, a lone, robed and masked figure suddenly came into her view, completely overlooking her presence thanks to her specially designed robes. With one hand poised in the air with a wand, the individual pointed at another shop on the same street and began chanting ominously.

 _Don't. You. Dare._

Wand already in an iron grip in her hand, Ariana swiftly raised it and fired off the first spell which came to her head.

" _Sectumsempra!"_ she whispered softly as to not alert the Death Eater, slashing the air three times in a zigzag manner to form a crude _S_ -shape.

The silvery burst of dark magic spat thickly out of her wand and rushed towards the unsuspecting victim, causing a female voice to sharply cry out in pain when the spell hit. The figure fell to the ground in agony as three distinct lines slashed through the robes and sliced the body like butter.

"Seriously," Ariana sighed in an unconcerned manner as she ran over to the convulsing figure, "Out of all the spells I know, I instinctively choose this one?"

She was neither a trained Mediwitch nor an erudite in the art of healing, but she knew instantly that a couple of major veins and blood vessels had been ruptured when she drew closer, as blood thickly poured out of the Death Eater's wounds onto the hard, fire-warmed cobblestone.

Kneeling down when she reached her destination, Ariana roughly yanked off a white mask to expose an unfamiliar and definitely female face, one that was contorting in pain as it gave out laboured breaths.

"Will your death affect the future?" she coldly muttered as she stared dispassionately in the pleading eyes of a young woman.

The other female stared up with confusion in her last moments into familiar blood-red eyes as she managed to choke out, "My Lord, w-why…"

Ignoring what seemed like feeble rambling, Ariana gave a nonchalant hum after fully perusing her memories, shrugging as she stood back while casually brushing some soot off her shoulder.

"Nope, don't recall you. Please feel free to die."

The words she just uttered sounded foreign and distant to her ears as she casually walked away from a trembling and outstretched arm that was reaching for help in her direction, almost as if she were a hollow puppet and some higher power was toying with her vessel as they arbitrarily pleased.

She did not get far before a ringing noise suddenly erupted in her ears and halted her movement, steadily increasing in pressure until she clutched her head in agony as it peaked, wracking her with unabating pulses.

With a heavy gasp, she collapsed sideways onto a stone wall in a heap, her mind racing as it tried its best to logically think for a solution to the sudden pain she was experiencing.

"My… magic," she wheezed through gritted teeth amidst the pain, realizing that she was feeling something very wrong deep within her magical core.

Shutting her eyes whilst trembling violently, she intensely searched for an anomaly in the depths of her core, and after much delving, unexpectedly stumbled upon something foreign. As she cautiously approached the weird presence, it flared up like a started animal and quickly vanished into the murky recesses of her magic.

All of a sudden, the pain vanished, alongside the overbearing pressure in her head and eyes, as if a filter had been removed from her eyes. Emotions and thoughts that had been locked behind a barrier in her mind suddenly found freedom, and flooded forth back into her body with a vengeance.

" _No_ ," Ariana breathed in terror as her mind rightened itself, her large terrified eyes slowly turning back to look at an unmoving figure that lay mangled on the cobbled ground.

Tears of self-damnation sprung to the corners of her eyes as she rushed over to the young witch she had almost cleaved in twain with her spell, paying no attention to the pool of warm blood that soaked her robes as she dropped to her knees beside the dying woman.

Bloody foam oozing out a slack mouth sent shudders down Ariana's spine as she reached out and put one tremulous hand on the Death Eater's neck. After what seemed like a centuries, she finally felt what she was looking for: a pulse.

"Still alive," she said in a choked voice as elation filled her. She then raised her wand high as she then prepared to say the counter-charm to Snape's dark spell to save the life of a misled young woman, but froze at the last second, as she realized something which chilled her to her core.

 _I… I don't know the counter spell._

As Ariana lay hunched over and rigid while her mind ferociously thought of a thousand and one solutions on how to deal with a dark spell which mimicked cursed sword wounds, the moribund witch opened her mouth with her dying breath and uttered something so faint that Ariana almost missed it.

"Please…"

Ariana was jerked out of her thoughts from the sound and she fixated on the young woman's face, a face full of nothing but raw pain and emotion as she whispered in her final moments.

"P-Please… tell my family… that I lov-"

Her plea was never completed as her eyes blurred and breath quickened, increasing in intensity until she gave out one long, final exhale.

Thus, the young witch died, a person who shall remain unnamed and forgotten in the annals of history as death swooped down and claimed her as its own, only to then gently escort her with one bony hand through the stars to her next Great Adventure, onward in a wondrous and grand journey that never really ends.

Time slowed down to a halt as the ten-year-old witch stared vacantly at her bloodied hands as they cradled a lolling and lifeless head in a limp embrace. Even with all her newfound and vast intellect, her mind simply couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Ten long seconds passed before Ariana looked upwards at the sky, and _screamed._

* * *

A young man agilely ducked under a beam of sickly yellow light, the spell lightly skimming across the top of his frazzled red hair as it scorched loose strands, narrowly passing over him.

"Fabian, focus," Gideon barked angrily as sweat poured down his mud-sullied face, throwing up a shield to save his brother from a second curse that was immediately followed up, a particularly nasty spell that induced the symptoms of smallpox.

"Foolish blood-traitors," their opponent, a man, hissed under his mask as the siblings prepared for another offensive, "With power like yours, you will be welcomed with arms open into the benevolent arms of our Master, if you ever choose to be enlightened."

Fabian grunted in irritation at the predictable rhetoric, "Sorry pal, but we Prewetts stay strictly in the hero business… _Stupefy!_ " he replied, yelling the stunning spell at the end of his sentence.

The Death Eater easily side-stepped the spell, and as he was moving, fired off a spell with lightning fast reactions, using his billowing robe to hide his wand movement.

" _Interitus!"_ he muttered under his breath.

The foul spell punched a hole through his own robe and tore through the air towards Fabian with uncanny accuracy, a surprise move that caused the other wizard to temporarily freeze in surprise at it flew towards him.

Just as it was about to hit Fabian, an outstretched arm that glowed purple thrust itself towards the spell and reflected it upwards, causing it to soon vanish out of existence into the midday sky.

Fabian's eyes widened as he realized what his brother had done, and immediately channelled some of his own magic into the glowing arm. A thick second passed before the glow faded and the brothers stood back upright, unharmed, and stalwart in the demeanour as they acted akin to an impenetrable rampart.

Gideon steadied himself once more as he fell back into a battle position, "You will not harm anyone," he vowed with a steady voice and hardened eyes.

"You would say otherwise… if you only knew the truth," their opponent replied with a disturbingly righteous tone as he peered over their shoulders at a terrified huddle of witches and wizards, "Their lesser kind does not belong in our world," he spat, "Their existence is an insidious disease that will soon destroy all that we hold dear."

Fabian soon had enough of the speech that dehumanized Muggle-borns. " _Stupefy!"_ he yelled.

The Death Eater casually side-stepped the same spell for the umpteenth time that afternoon "Such a delicious prowess over magic, yet you both only throw stunning spells at me," he sighed, "I'm… disappointed."

"We will not sink down to your level," came the immediately reply.

"Is that so?" the Death Eater hummed in fascination as he twirled his wand, "Well then, let's see how far I can push you… before you _break_ ," he ended with a mad cackle.

Without warning, he pointed towards a child that clinging to her mother, too quick for Gideon and Fabian to even react to.

" _Avada Kedav-"_

His chant was never finished as a beam of orange light suddenly burst through his body from behind, causing a gaping hole to appear in his chest where his heart had once been. He fell forwards, instantly dead.

"Harold!" came the synchronized cry of relief as the Prewetts spied their saviour. The red-heads took a large sigh of relief at the circumvented tragedy, their respite so sudden that they didn't recognize that their opponent had just been killed.

They never expected however, to be greeted with cold and dead eyes and a guttural voice almost grated on their ears.

"What the bloody hell were you two doing?"

Fabian blinked twice in puzzlement before slowly answering, "We were just-"

"If I wasn't here," Harold growled, pointing at the crying infant, "That child would be dead."

Fabian's face flushed hotly from the aggressive tone, "I know that, we were going to-"

"What? Use another stunning spell?" Harold snapped as he shook his head in disgust, muttering something he thought was out of earshot of the brothers, " _This is the reason why the Order was a failure from the very start_."

Without another glance back, he marched over to the prone, unmoving body and flipped it over, ripping off the white mask that adorned the Death Eater's face viciously to expose a well-aged face.

"Another unknown," they heard him mutter in disappointment as they ran up to him.

"Blimey, Harold," Fabian breathed with eyes as large as dinner plates when he drew closer, "Is he… dead?"

"One death, to save thousands," Harold replied coolly as he shrugged in indifference, standing back up and turning to leave to find other Dark wizards.

Fabian reached out and put a firm hand on one retreating shoulder, his action causing him to receive a blank stare that truly unnerved him, "Harold…" he started warily, "…there is something different about you today."

Harold shrugged off the grip as politely as he could, "The Death Eaters will stop at nothing to accomplish their master's will," he quietly informed, his cold eyes piercing straight into theirs, "Which means, I will still stop at nothing to prevent it."

His words seemed to strike a chord into the brothers, as they both physically leaned backwards from his cogent words.

"Now come, our work is not yet finished" Harold commanded, the natural leader within taking hold as he discussed some battle plans with them quickly, before running off towards the sounds of more warfare.

Gideon bit his lip in consternation as they ran like lightning down the twists and turns of Diagon Alley's back pathways, looking around every now and then to confirm a suspicion he had lingering around in his mind.

 _Something is very wrong… where are all the Aurors?_

* * *

Ariana gave a chilling laugh as she pried the headless body of a juvenile Death Eater off her. Stumbling unsteadily to her feet, she moved onward without another look back, using what little sanity she still had to suppress a perverted desire to defile the decapitated body in ways that would be too abhorrent to mention.

The despair which once filled her from her first murder was now replaced with the opportunistic and depraved presence that she had felt earlier today, as it came back into her vulnerable mind with a vengeance, now almost swaying her every thought and action.

Of all a sudden, she stopped in her tracks as she felt the air vibrate with magic. Leaping to the side with all the strength she could muster in her body, she watched in slow motion as a beam of vivid green that promised instant death hit the floor where her body was a mere second ago.

A figure appeared from the shadows, brimming with what could be perceived as wild anger. This Death Eater was different from the rest. The mask was not the barren white as she expected, but the dusky silver that mimicked the Death Eaters of her future instead.

"Don't be too proud of your accomplishments," a dignified and haughty voice echoed from behind the mask, "Your previous opponents were mere cannon fodder."

"Voldemort instructed you to keep the Order busy as well, didn't he?" Ariana immediately responded with a smug smile as she looked over the new arrival, lazily tossing her wand up and down in the air in flippancy, "Since you haven't used your Portkey yet, it looks like you're too, nothing but cannon fodder to him," she ended with a mad bark of laughter.

" _SHUT UP,"_ the Death Eater screamed, firing off the Killing Curse once more in her general direction in an unhinged manner, causing the spell to totally be off its mark as it crashed and fizzled out on the pavement.

Ariana's smile grew predatory as she knew exactly who she was dealing with, recognizing the young voice and the mercurial manner of speech. It was a particular witch, one which she had thought about long and hard about torturing and killing ever since the fateful events in her fifth year.

 _Oh Bellatrix, I hope you will enjoy this as much as I will._

Knowing that her opponent was a prodigy in the art of magical warfare, she quickly scanned the environment once over as she raised her yew wand. Her body tingled with anticipation, readying all the new knowledge she had accrued over months of brutal preparation that she had put herself through, and began the attack.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ Ariana barked, starting off with a basic spell to test the still waters.

Bellatrix seemed visibly offended at the elementary level spell as she easily conjured a nonverbal Shield Charm, the scarlet beam dissipating on the invisible barrier while she quickly returned a spell of her own through it.

" _Confringo!"_

The deadly blasting curse soared towards a composed Ariana, who already had premature knowledge of the spell before it was even cast due to her special ability to sense the coalescence of magic.

Knowing that the spell caused whatever it hit first in its path to explode with a concussive force, she quickly summoned a small dislodged brick from the shattered pavestone to the direct line of path of Bellatrix's spell.

Her eyes widened in surprise from a miniature explosion in the air was that was created from the powerful spell interacting with the brick, causing bits of sharp debris to fly into her face with vicious force, forgetting that even though the spell was entirely blocked, the proximity of small, high-velocity debris could still cause damage.

Blood trickled down her face from her forehead onto her eyelids as she stumbled backwards, blinding her temporarily as struggled to ignore the pain of her new wounds. Sensing another unknown spell was on the verge of being cast, she blindly dove to her right on the hard pavement as a foul-smelling piece of magic passed by her face with only inches to spare.

"Resourceful, but inexperienced," Bellatrix drawled as she danced out of the way of a barrage of relentless spells from her opponent, opting to block the particularly nasty ones with a heavily modified Shield Charm every now and then, "Powerful, but undisciplined."

" _Invorto!"_ Ariana growled in response to the condescending tone as she struggled to lock onto the nimble target, internally cursing her overconfidence as she soon realized that Bellatrix was proving to be a significant challenge.

Bellatrix gave a mad laugh as she recognized the all too familiar spell and stood still while muttering something under her breath, not moving an inch as the spell flew towards her. Like hot cheese melting in a woodfire, the dark purple spell distorted and tapered until it finally vanished from existence, quashed from an unseen force.

"Naughty boy," Bellatrix mock-lectured as she playfully wagged her finger at her wide-eyed, Glamoured opponent, "To have the audacity to use a spell privy to those only in the House of Black."

Ariana then instantly knew that she could not win this battle with conventional magic alone. Although she had been training day and night for many weeks, Bellatrix was honed to be a living weapon her whole life. It only made sense that back then Sirius was the only one that could evenly match her skill level, as they both were trained in the same gruesome manner under the same roof.

A mental imprint of Ariana's surroundings echoed in her mind as she thought of her next move in this dangerous and precarious position. Knowing exactly what to do after a brief bout of intense thought, she pointed to the cobblestone between her and her adversary and yelled.

" _Bombarda Maxima!"_

The ground between them detonated with an explosive force. This time however, a lesser Shield Charm saved her from the flying debris – a lesson learned from her first mistake. While this wall of flying debris was in play, she turned her back to Bellatrix in a calculated risk as she pointed her wand to a nearby store at the object that she desperately needed.

" _Accio Broomstick!"_

A Comet Two Sixty that lay dormant and proud on its side suddenly launched into to action as it broke through its protective glass carrier and raced towards the outstretched arm that summoned it, its bristles rigid and untested, and its wood glossy and waxed.

All of this merely took a single second as the shaft of the broomstick handle slid perfectly into her waiting hand. She then mounted it immediately after with a fluid grace that could only stem from years of playing Quidditch.

Bellatrix glowered in displeasure behind her mask upon when the dust settled as she spied her opponent hovering just off the ground, "Running off so soon?" she whined in a babyish tone as she crossed her arms.

"Not quite," Ariana coldly replied, the derisive tone grating on every nerve she possessed as she reached into a part of her magic that she had only saved for a last resort.

Bellatrix twitched unconsciously as she sensed a powerful and unusual shift in magic, and readied her wand in response, "Very well, no more playing around then," she said in an even voice that seemed to grow darker with each word.

"Dodge this, harlot," Ariana snarled, nimbly accelerating sideways at an incredible speed on her broom, mere inches off the ground as she raised her wand.

" _Fheòil Còmhla_ _,"_ the young witch hissed in the noble language of the Serpents, her heart pumping as she cast Parselmagic for the first time at another living being.

Bellatrix couldn't react fast enough to the broom that was accelerating sideways and as a result, the murky grey spell slammed into her sternum, throwing her backwards and lifting her upwards into a wall. Only dazed, the result from a quick nonverbal spell she cast at the very last second, she quickly got up and shook her head in an attempt to focus her thoughts, but soon noticed something wrong with the hand out of the corner of her eye. Slight fascination and horror filled her as she realized that her hand was now webbed, the skin between her fingers were slowly joining and sewing itself together in a slow, disturbing process.

"It's not just your hand, soon your whole body fully encased in your very own skin," Ariana giggled as she tilted her head, unable to mad bubble of laughter escape her lips at the palpable sense of fear she evoked from the other witch.

Bellatrix screeched in anger as she tore her mask off her face, an unsightly snarl distorting her rather beautiful and young face. She motioned with her wand and forcefully summoned the broom that Ariana was perching on towards her, casting the killing curse directly after to intercept the incoming broomstick in the air in a precise and deadly cross-fire.

Ariana, however, had already calculated that was one of her possible next moves and deftly let go of the broom as soon as it started to move against her will. Landing lightly on the ground, she pointed her wand at the end of the broom, where it was accelerating towards her opponent, and cast the decisive spell.

" _Dlús,"_ she sibilated in one syllable as she unleashed another burst of Parselmagic, the Ophidian nature boasting a protean and formidable weapon that was saved only for the most severe of circumstances.

An umber hued spell aggressively burst out from the tip of her wand and slammed into the butt of the broomstick as it was flying in the air, accelerating it tremendously until it broke the speed of sound, creating a mini sonic boom that deafened the area temporarily.

The broom flew like a targeted Muggle missile and aimed straight for a wide-eyed Bellatrix, her own summoning spell turning against her as it slammed into her gut with a sickening crunch and carried her, with its momentum, through the air and into an unoccupied house on the far side of the street.

A sliver of ecstasy shot through Ariana's body as she heard the characteristic sound of ribs breaking, the whole sequence moving in slow motion to her. Almost skipping, she made her way to the dark house and entered without fear, only to be greeted by a groaning witch that was clutching her stomach in moderate pain.

"Hmm, that would normally kill someone," Ariana hummed in fascination as she stroked her chin, "It looks like these Death Eater robes are somehow magically enchanted to mitigate physical damage after all."

Bellatrix then did something rather unexpected.

She got up off the ground as best as she could and knelt down on the ground before her opponent, her youthful face looking up in consternation and spoke despite the fact that the skin at the corners of her face was slowly sealing up her mouth.

"My Lord, a-am I being tested?" she said in a muffled voice.

Ariana said nothing in response, her eyes suddenly burning an even brighter red as a tense period of silence dragged on. Suddenly, still without uttering a word, she flicked her wand faster than the eye could see, rendering Bellatrix immobile and causing her wand to fly out of her hand as the prostrating witch was forced flat on the floor by an invisible force, the spell spreading her arms out like an eagle.

"You are correct," Ariana grinned sadistically, finally breaking the silence as she then casually flicked her wand behind her, causing the door to the deserted house shut with a bang as a silencing ward was erected around them.

"I will test your _body_ …" she began with a maniacal leer as she raised her wand and applied a dark curse that caused Bellatrix's teeth to break off with a sickening crunch one by one, the pain causing her to howl in agony, "…your _mind_ …" she continued as she unleashed a spate of spells that tricked the mind into thinking it was drowning, "…and your _spirit_ ," she ended with an uncontrollable giggle as she applied the Cruciatus Curse.

Fifteen minutes passed, and the oldest of the Black sisters was a state that almost seemed unrecognizable. The deluge of spells in conjunction to the slow, creeping enveloping of her skin, gave a hair-raising image of something rather monstrous.

"Now… for the grand finale," Ariana panted with laborious breaths, her face sallow and sweaty from magical exhaustion as she looking at a bruised and bloody human cocoon. Hair-raising handprints from the inside feebly pounded on the blotched skin in terror, like a fetus yearning for freedom from its mother's womb.

She had never cast the Killing Curse before in her life, past nor present, but she somehow knew she could do it at this very second. A voice that always seemed to be in the back of her mind spoke up once again, whispering words of insidious encouragement ever so soothingly.

 _One more spell… and your revenge is complete…_

A fierce snarl erupted on her face as she mustered all the hate she could harbour in her body, raising her wand sluggishly, as though her body was unconsciously trying to fight back, and brought her wand down one final time.

" _Avada Kedavra."_

The spell was neither yelled, nor shouted, nor whispered. Instead, a hollow voice that was devoid of all emotion let out an incantation that caused a green bolt to race towards the misshapen heap on the floor, her muscles contracting in slight pleasure as she used the forbidden spell for the first time.

The spell soared through the air and was just about to hit its intended target until a flash of white light suddenly erupted into existence near Bellatrix, knocking the spongy ball away as the Killing Curse narrowly missed her by a hairsbreadth and fizzled out harmlessly on the ground.

Ariana slowly lowered a hand that was shielding her eyes from the unexpected burst of illumination and growled in anger at the sight that awaited her.

"Damn creature, you will pay for that with your life," she snarled, her mind now totally lost as she pointed towards the new arrival, and screamed, " _Avada Kedavra!"_

Fawkes trilled in alarm and instantly took to the air, avoiding the green curse and bombardment of spells that instantly followed. The magical onslaught rocked the house with every spell as it nimbly weaved and dodged the best it could in the tight space it was confined in.

The phoenix knew that time was running very short. Either it acted now, or its dear companion would be dominated completely. Noticing out of the corner of its beady eyes that the young witch had her hands on her knees to take a slight break due to extreme magical fatigue, it knew this was the perfect moment.

Freezing mid-flight, it then dropped downward like a stone and crashed ungracefully on the remains of a demolished sofa before propping itself up and opening its beak in preparation to deliver its magnum opus.

A breath-taking melody of orchestral exuberance suddenly filled the room, effortlessly dancing through the air on the updraft of a stirring breeze. The song was irresistibly sweet, yet a feeling of sadness and unfulfillable longing were laced within its chords as the melody purred into Ariana's soul, piercing through and engulfing her entire being from within.

"No, no… NO," the young witch half-screamed in a disjointed voice as the music enveloped her, almost sounding as if two people were speaking at the same time, "…SHE IS _MINE_."

Fawkes responded by only singing louder, the intensity causing the girl to instantly tremble as a heavenly feeling enraptured her pure soul, liquid energy seeping right through as her skin physically started to glow white, dim at first, but soon into dazzling display.

Unladen tears started uncontrollably pouring down Ariana's face as she blearily gazed at the phoenix that had finally stopped singing, the crimson red in her pupils gradually starting to fade out of existence. The prison of thick brambles and deadly thorns that sat atop her breast slowly rotted away as her form grew brighter, freeing her of a disgusting amalgamation of lust, avarice, perversion, envy, and desire that wasn't hers.

"F-Fawkes… is that you?" she weakly croaked in confusion, able to thinking absolutely clearly for the first time in weeks as the vestigial traces of a raging maelstrom that was constantly churning in her mind were finally expunged.

A soft croon issued an affirmative to the question. Fawkes then did something that entirely caught her off guard. Inexplicably, as always, its mellow and angelic voice somehow gently brushed the surface her mind in a comforting touch as it spoke directly to her for the first time.

 _Come to me child, you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest._

Ariana suddenly felt her mind grow numb, as if half of it were suddenly locked away for no apparent reason. Her eyes grew lidded with utmost weariness as she sluggishly yawned, swayed dangerously on the spot as her mind turned on the brink of shutting down. Stumbling, she about inches away from crashing into the ground before a pair of soft, feathery wings engulfed her.

"It feels... good," she slurred, shutting her eyes in finality as she leaned deeper into the resplendent chest, drifting off into a deep and uninterrupted sleep as her once-glowing skin dimmed with each passing second, finally flashing out of existence once she was fully asleep.

Fawkes, a creature of forgiveness and purity, trilled sadly as it looked at the other witch in the house, one who was on the very brink of death. Managing to lean over far enough without disentangling its grip with Ariana, it splashed some of its healing tears over the abused figure. Once the benevolent phoenix was satisfied that the witch was going to live as it reverted numerous dark curses, including the ones introduced by Parselmagic, it raised its head high one last time and warbled soulfully, before disappearing in a fiery flash, taking Ariana along with it.

To an observer, this last act of kindness towards a person that preyed on fear, misery and destruction seemed completely ludicrous and unjust. What an observer could not see however, was that this phoenix was above the vengeful and sadistic nature of Man, and understood completely that life was too precious to be thrown away. After all, kindness is language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.

* * *

Like hail on a glass pane, the drumming of Fabian's fingers was relentless as it was loud. Each tap of the sharpened dragon hide armour on the table echoed the tumultuous thudding in his heart beat. His face, rigid with tension, belied his youthfulness; he seemed to have aged a decade in the past few hours.

The crack of a thunderbolt suddenly pierced the air, heralding the arrival of a dishevelled and completely drenched group of witches and wizards that popped out of thin air, landing heavily from the short fall as they struggled to stay upright from exhaustion.

"Late again," Fabian greeted as he forced a smile onto on his face, pushing himself off the table he was leaning on.

"Sincerest apologies, my dear boy," Albus replied in a weary voice as he tiredly sat down on an unoccupied chair, "There were… delays."

Noticing that the other members of the Order carried pale and trembling faces as they immediately cast off their soggy outer robes and left the room wordlessly, Fabian gulped and hoped nothing had gone awry, "Was the mission successful?" he asked anxiously.

"Fortunately, we arrived just in time," Albus responded with a tired sigh of relief, "However, duelling Voldemort and his lackeys whilst fending off a never-ending wave of Dementors pushed us to our absolute limits."

He stood up quickly as a strange light lit up in his eyes, remembering that there was another side to the coin, "I, however, need a report from your operation, immediately."

Fabian bit his lip in nervousness as his eyes briefly flickered to one side, "Our hold was true. There were no casualties on our side," he began slowly, "Nor any civilian deaths, thankfully."

"Ah, wonderful," Albus smiled, his aged and pounding heart slowing down from the news.

"But… Voldemort's side suffered heavy losses."

Albus gave a start of surprise as he looked at the young wizard in alarm, "What?"

Fabian closed his eyes and shuddered involuntarily, "It was all Harold," he whispered, unable to get the disturbing images that were seared into his brain out of his head, "He… was a harbinger of death, single-handedly mowing down all that stood in his path."

Albus' eyebrows rose to the top of his head as he shook his head in denial, "No, no… she would never do something like this," Albus quietly muttered under his breath as he paced around, his powerful mind almost humming as he deliberated, "Unless…"

"Where is Harold?" he broke off in an urgent tone as he turned back to face the red-haired wizard.

"He hasn't come back to Headquarters yet," Fabian replied as he shuffled his feet restlessly, "However, we were last with him at the end of the second alleyway behind Gringotts before we lost track of him during the chaos."

Albus gave a quick nod of thanks as he readied himself, "I suspect this affair will take a while, so don't expect my presence tonight in the meeting," Albus rapidly instructed as he took out his wand and visualized the street in his mind, "Oh – before I forget, make sure the others eat lots of chocolate, it helps with the lethargy."

Without even waiting for a reply, he vanished with a flick of his wand, soaring through space in an instant as he reappeared into the location his red-haired companion mentioned, with a soft pop this time.

Landing gracefully on the cobblestone, he immediately surveyed his surroundings and let out a low whistle at the physical signs of destruction as well as the blood stains that were coating the debris. Noticing a group of wizards frantically running about at the end of the alleyway, he made for them immediately and recognized them as Aurors once he drew near. Further recognizing one of the Aurors personally, he strode towards him purposely.

"Hello, Oliver," Albus greeted in a warm manner, taking on a grandfatherly face as he approached a wizard that was thoroughly scanning a handheld piece of parchment.

"P-Professor Dumbledore!" the said man exclaimed, surprise erupting on his face as he looked up, "What are you doing here, sir?"

"Come now, you aren't my student anymore. Please, call me Albus."

"If you insist… Albus," Oliver replied hesitatingly, "Anyway, this is a restricted zone... you really shouldn't be here."

"Oh – my apologies," Albus immediately responded with a faked look of surprise, "Why? What has happened here?" he continued in a curious voice.

Oliver bit his lip, looking left and right in nervousness as he contemplated divulging classified information. However, knowing that the aged wizard before him was publicized as one of the most virtuous wizards alive, he trusted his inner instincts and leaned into Albus with a low voice.

"The new Dark Lord just attacked certain parts of Diagon Alley. We're doing our best to keep things calm and quiet," he murmured, "Thank Merlin for those unknown heroes that held the Death Eaters off until the Aurors arrived, I dread to think what would happen if they weren't defending for those twenty minutes," he continued with a large sigh of relief.

Now, Albus was genuinely curious, "Hold on, twenty minutes?" he asked in a puzzled tone, "Aurors usually respond to disasters in a matter of minutes – even seconds sometimes. Why so late?"

Oliver grit his teeth, seething in anger towards something unknown as he replied, "Someone impersonated the Minister, Barty Crouch Snr, and called an emergency meeting for all Aurors mere minutes before the attack struck. We foolishly congregated, only to find ourselves trapped by some powerful magic."

Albus lowered his gaze to the ground, "Absolutely ingenious," he muttered under his breath in morbid admiration of the relative simplicity of the plan, "Without the Aurors, the Order must have been forced to fight until the very last second. If we weren't aware of Tom's plan, he would have gotten away with all the Dementors obediently by his side."

Nodding in thanks to his former student, just readied his wand to Apparate out. Just before he pooled his vast amounts of magic, a flash of blinding white suddenly exploded into existence in front of his face. He blinked twice in slight confusion, before recognizing the newcomer.

"Ah – there you are, Fawkes," he warmly greeted, curiously noting that his beloved phoenix was glowing in an unusually white hue as it flapped its glittering wings in the air, "I've been wondering-"

With a loud trill, it abruptly interrupted Albus' pleasantries as it swooped down and grabbed onto his shoulder with its claws, vanishing with a puff of smoke a second later to leave a highly bemused Auror behind in its wake.

"-where you've been," Albus finished as he was immediately teleported to his private quarters, his reactions slightly delayed from the instantaneous form of travel, a stark difference from Apparition or Portkeys, where one had a healthy lag between travelling between two points.

Whirling around at the urgently trilling phoenix, he briefly forgot his mission he stared disapprovingly at Fawkes, "I shan't be mad at you, but you know how much I dislike it when-"

Interrupting Albus for a second time, Fawkes flew up from the chair it was perched on and cuffed him gently on the head with a wing, causing him to turn his head to the side.

Albus was just about to admonish the ancient creature yet again, but caught his tongue at the last second, as he spied an unmoving figure on his bed, a person that was tucked snugly under his blanket, a person that was lying on his favourite pillow, and a person that he recognized as someone he would lay down his own life for.

"Ariana," he gasped in recognition, bolting over to a supine young witch that seemed to be peacefully sleeping, noting that the effect of the Polyjuice Potion as the Glamour Charm had worn off and left her to drown in a sea of clothes twice her size.

Just as he was about to reach her, a burst of light harmlessly knocked him back, caused him to stumble as a heavenly voice enveloped his mind, a familiar voice that he couldn't distinguish was either male or female as it resonated around his mind in a divine glory.

 _She slumbers peacefully, requiring not your touch, but your wits._

Albus instantly froze every muscle in his body from the voice, before slowly turned towards the phoenix that was standing protectively in front of the young girl, a look of utmost surprise plastered across his face.

"You… you haven't spoken to me in many years, old friend," Albus murmured quietly, emotions running high through him as slight tears of joy pooled at the corners of his eyes, "It has been far too long."

Fawkes trilled in sorrow from the sight of teardrops and hopped over, leaning its head against Albus' own in a heartfelt apology. An ancient happiness stirred within the creature as it realized that the bond between master and familiar was still as strong as it was on the first day since it was forged, decades and decades ago.

A brief and emotional period of silence that spoke a thousand words was broken as Fawkes detached itself from its master and hopped back over to the unconscious girl, singing a low lullaby that filled his aged heart with peace.

 _The light within the Child of Flame fades fast._

 _Time… is not your ally._

Albus peered over his feathery companion's shoulder and instantly recognized the foul stench rising off the girl, "This is extremely dark magic," Albus murmured in an undertone as he wrinkled his nose, properly inspecting Ariana for the first time and noting the strange wavelike magic that was surrounding her head in a halo.

"Fawkes, what… what am I meant to do?" he asked in a small voice as his mind absolutely refused to cooperate, suddenly feeling like a small child next to the immortal creature in light of the situation.

 _As always, your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness._

Albus let out a nostalgic chuckle, "So it's going to be just like old times, eh?" he grinned as he realized how dearly he missed conversing with the ever so cryptic phoenix, realizing that was all he was going to get out of the sagacious bird.

Turning back to face the girl that was at rest, his face then turned grave and lost all traces of buoyancy as he started to hum and haw, the synapses in his powerful brain reaching out and connecting with each other at breakneck speed to produce a myriad of theories and hypotheses, drawing from a vast sea of knowledge had been accrued for decades upon decades.

A thick minute passed before his heavenly blue eyes lit up, his mind connecting all the existing clues. His eyes then immediately darkened as he realized they narrowed down to one single possibility. Grabbing his wand post-haste, he leapt out of his office and ran through the school, moving so quick it seemed like the air itself was propelling him forward. Only one thought now echoed through his mind as he hurtled through the vast corridors of the sentient castle towards his destination.

 _Ariana, just hold on a little longer… I will not fail you._

 _Not again._


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 21**

"…then maybe a cup? A golden goblet with an image of a badger engraved on its side?"

A group of young wizards and witches took a second to pause as they wracked their brains, and then as one, shook their heads in a negative.

Albus clenched his hands with force underneath the table briefly before releasing them, keeping his grandfatherly countenance in place as to not let his students sense his near tangible distress.

 _Have… have I missed any potential Horcruxes?_ He thought desperately as he wracked his brain.

 _Ah… I know._

"Have any of you seen any suspicious snakes lurking around her, a caramel Burmese python perhaps? Or maybe even hearing something like a hiss from under her bed?"

The group of first-years and sixth-years looked at each other in bewilderment from the bizarre spectrum of oddly specific questions they were being bombarded with. Again, they thought long and hard about the question, but soon responded chorus of negatives yet again.

Hope was quickly fading as he churned out more desperate and far-fetched questions, only to be met with the exact opposite of the answer he was looking for time and time again.

"…so nothing at all comes to mind? No recent trinkets you may have noticed that have fallen into her possession? Baubles, earrings, hairpins, circlets-"

" _Wait_ ," James said loudly, drawing the attention of the occupants in the room as he scrunched up his face in thought, faintly remembering a shiny object that he slipped into Ariana's robes at her request in that one fated night, "I remember there was this one… diadem that she came across a couple of weeks ago," he continued slowly, "I do not know if she still has it."

Albus immediately stood up from the revelation, his words leaving his mouth even before his head had turned to face the teenage wizard, "Would you be able to identify this object?"

"Y-Yes sir," James stammered as he replied, slightly taken back from the brilliant blue eyes that peered over moon-spectacled glasses and swivelled to connect with his. He then fidgeted slightly as a strange tingling started spreading in the forefront of his mind.

After a second of silence, Albus tore his eyes away from the young Potter and took a deep breath before quickly addressing the rest of the group, "Thank you everyone, for coming to my office so promptly and answering me honestly," he started with a pleased look on his face, "Now, please return to your dorms before it gets too dark."

As they were filing out obediently, a small but strong voice suddenly spoke up, "Um sir… Ariana's not in trouble, is she?" Amelia asked timidly, her hands fiddling with strands of hair in nervousness from the sudden summons and what effectively was an interrogation.

Her words caused the moving group to halt as they looked back at their Headmaster in curiousness. "Not in any more than the usual," Albus replied as he plastered a gentle smile on his face, a hollow shell of the truth in his words, "Now, move along please, quickly."

As they bid their good-nights on the way out, Albus put one hand on one moving teenager, holding the person back as he murmured lowly, "I have another task for you, Mr Potter."

The evening sun had already fallen and dipped below the skyline. The twilight skies grew darker with each passing moment, and as its light was slowly being snuffed out at all corners of the horizon, so did the control Ariana held over her mind.

When the rest of the students had finally left and the door was slammed shut, Albus instantly dropped his act. With a loud and sudden clap of his hands, James jumped in shock as a house elf silently appeared out of thin air before them instantly in response. Without pause, Albus quickly knelt down and looked at the new arrival with a stressed look.

"Nolly, go quickly to the Gryffindor first year dorms and bring me Miss Peverell's trunk," he quickly instructed, his unusually bright and burning eyes causing the House Elf to quiver on the spot, "Do _not_ open it at any cost."

Nolly eyes grew large at the urgent tone from the usually benign wizard, "Right away, Headmaster" she squeaked as she frantically nodded back, her large ears flopping up and down from the action. With a snap of her fingers, she vanished as quickly as she came.

James just kept his lips shut, wondering what in Merlin's name was going on as he watched his Headmaster begin to pace around the office with a palpable aura of disquietude. A tense couple of seconds passed before the dutiful creature returned, this time however, with a large brown trunk in tow.

"I have it, Headmaster," Nolly cried proudly in a high pitched squeak the second when she popped back into the office.

"Thank you Nolly," Albus responded with a sigh of relief before continuing in a lower, more layered voice, "It is imperative that _no one_ knows about this."

"I swears on my life not to tell a word, sire," Nolly solemnly vowed, bowing lowly to the floor before vanishing back from whence she came, recognizing the pact to secrecy and the clear dismissal in the same sentence.

"Let's see what we have," Albus muttered to himself, temporarily ignoring the younger wizard as he inspected the trunk from a distance, swishing his wand in the air as he began to chant something under his breath.

He whistled in admiration after he finished waving his wand, "A most impressive array of wards, my girl," he commended, sensing the invisible traps and delicate countermeasures that were placed on the exterior of the magically expanded trunk. However, they were no match for the powerful wizard as he kneeled beside the object of interest and began to safely deactivate them. When he reached the final layer of defence, he started to mutter a spell under his breath, but clamped his mouth shut and retracted his wand at the last second when he brushed across unfamiliar magic.

"What manner of trickery is this," he murmured as he lightly toyed with the foreign and odd combination of runes with a curious tendril of magic.

The sound of James' tapping of feet upon stone broke him out of his preoccupation and caused him to clench his teeth in frustration as he realized that he was only wasting time, "There is no time to disarm this," he muttered to himself as he pulled his magic back, each passing second putting him more on edge.

"Sir, what are you doing?" James asked nervously as his Headmaster stood up and brandished his wand towards the trunk with purpose.

"Stand back," Albus barked, causing the teenager to scuttle backwards in alarm at the commanding tone. Making sure that he was shielding his student with his body, he then surrounded all the trunk's sides with his magic in a plan to suppress whatever magic was released with his own. Muttering something under his breath, he then proceeded to bend the inanimate object to his will.

" _Alohomora Maxima_."

The trunk groaned as the powerful spell penetrated through the last line of defence, activating the trap as well as causing the top of her trunk to fly open with a loud creak, the upper half crashing on the stone floor. For a brief second, nothing happened. Just when Albus thought the magical pitfall had somehow malfunctioned, a dangerous hiss suddenly filled the air, heralding the entrance of a large snake as it slowly slithered out of the trunk and reared up to threateningly bare a pair of oversized fangs at the wizards.

"Seems easy enough," Albus muttered after assessing the situation warily, " _Vipera Evanesca!"_

The spell hit the non-moving animal squarely in its face, causing the serpent – which markings closely resembled a juvenile Basilisk – to speedily vanish in a puff of black smoke, systematically disappearing from head to tail.

James immediately began to move forward with the intent to find the diadem inside the trunk as soon as the snake was banished, confident in his strides as he assumed the seemingly effortless trial was dealt with. He was only able to get forward two steps forward before Albus threw out an arm urgently to stop him in his tracks.

"Be wary, Mr Potter. The danger has yet to pass."

As soon as those words left his mouth, a chorus of hisses loudly echoed around the office as this time two monstrous snakes wormed their way out of the open trunk and onto the floor. They looked almost identical to the previous snake, but were differentiated by a profusion of horrible lacerations on their scaly surfaces that neither bled nor hindered their movement.

"Self-division upon destruction," Albus noted lowly, quickly throwing up a modified Shield Charm as the deformed serpents lunged at him simultaneously, not giving him a grace period as the first snake did. Widening his eyes as he felt a moderate strain on his invisible shield, he peered at them more closely and came to another conclusion.

"Their source of power derives from…" Albus continued as his eyes zeroed in on a small weirdly shaped lump on their underbelly, "…a numeric Hydra rune," he gasped, his eyes widening as he spotted the ancient rune.

 _Clever girl._

 _These snakes will only strengthen in power as their number grows. An average wizard… no – even a moderately skilled wizard would have significant trouble against this._

His powerful mind then thundered through several solutions as he kept the shield up to protect himself and his student. His eyes then began twinkling despite the situation when he thought of the perfect answer in this setting, his thought process then slowing down as he turned towards an uneasy looking teenager.

"Mr Potter, I need the object on your extreme left… immediately," he ordered, not confident enough to get it himself since there was a rather important person in this room that he was safeguarding. With Ariana in the back of his mind, he vowed to himself that her young father would not be harmed under his watch.

James nodded fervently and bolted over to get the article that his Headmaster was referring to, looking backwards now and then in wariness as the snakes kept throwing themselves against the invisible shield with sickening crunches. He grabbed it once he got close and immediately bounded back over to Albus, a highly confused look on his face as he internally questioned the use of this odd object.

"Turn it upside down, face it towards yourself," Albus instructed calmly, cool as a summer breeze as he poured more magic into his shield.

"Sir, why-"

"James, please trust me."

James nodded hesitantly and followed the given orders, looking back up Albus expectantly when he was done as he awkwardly held the object.

Albus' eyes, never leaving his opponents, briefly flashed toward the mystified teenager. A confident smile sprung on his face as he gave out another instruction, "Now put your hand inside… and _pull_."

"This doesn't even make any-"

James' sentence died half way on his lips as he felt his hand inexplicably touch something definitely solid and bitingly cold. Grasping it firmly, with his trust in Albus absolute, he tugged with all his strength to pull out a glittering sword that gleamed and sparkled under the candlelight in his hand, the Sorting Hat all but forgotten as it was dropped to the ground from shock.

"The Sword of Gryffindor," Albus said happily with an internal sigh of relief, feeling his heart grow lighter as he knew the sword only revealed itself to those which possessed qualities of utmost valour and selflessness – the qualities of which he knew James possessed.

Noticing that the young wizard was still enthralled by the scintillating blade that was made of pure silver and its excessively ornate handle that also housed an egg-sized ruby on its pommel, he gave one final order, "Smite these creatures before you, with all of the will you can muster to save Ariana," he commanded in a strong voice.

 _Save Ariana?_ James thought as his breath quickened, his heart leaping into his throat as he finally was enlightened as to what they were trying to achieve.

As if a switch was suddenly flicked within him, all traces of hesitancy, doubt and tension vanished from his face, only to be replaced by an unwavering look of grim determination. Turning towards the two snakes that were still relentlessly striking the shield, he raised the florid sword high above his head, holding the blade in an even, perfect, and undaunted stance, and then swung it down in a swift and clean stroke, his form so perfect one could assume that he had been trained in swordsmanship his whole life.

A pair of unearthly hisses stained the air as it cleaved both the snakes in twain with one fell swoop, the enchanted blade shivering under the brutality of compelling magical strength as it tore through the cores that powered these grotesque serpents, the cut splitting the runes cleanly in half.

James watched dispassionately as the thrashing snakes slowly melted back into non-existence. So fixated was he on the unsightly bodies, that he failed to notice a loose fang had dislodged from one of the snake's thrashing and vanishing maw and had flown high into the air. With gravity as its pathfinder, the fang soon reached its zenith and began plummeting back down towards a distracted teenager.

"Masterful strike, Mr Potter," Albus beamed with pride, his watchful eye noting that the rune was all but destroyed by the magic nullifying effect the sword possessed. "Goblin-made swords are truly second to none."

As Albus was talking, James suddenly felt something sharp dig into the side of his right forearm. A burning sensation immediately started to spread across his entire arm from the point of contact as a wave of nausea instantly washed over him, threatening to empty the contents of his stomach.

" _PROFESSOR_!" he cried out in fright when he looked down and realized what was embedded in his arm, dropping the sword to the ground with a metallic clang and using his now free hand to yank the razor-sharp fang out.

Albus' heart rate quickened as he whirled towards the source of noise, his eyes flickering between the fang James was holding in one hand and the envenomed forearm that he was cradling in the other. His panic then increased tenfold as a delirious looking James suddenly crumpled to the ground, his quivering form now spasming in agony as the venom started to spread to the rest of his body.

" _FAWKES_!" Albus bellowed urgently as he rushed over.

The loyal phoenix appeared in a flash of fire from the urgent summons and fluttered to the floor beside him, feathers flared as it noticed the obvious distress on the aged wizard. When it then looked quickly around to find the source of it, it trilled loudly in dismay from the sight of the convulsing teenager on the floor.

"Fawkes, I'm in need your help once more," Albus implored as he spoke breathlessly, giving obvious alludes to the healing powers which lay locked behind the bird's tear ducts.

When the phoenix remained silent and unmoving for a few seconds, Albus cried out in confusion, "What are you waiting for?"

 _My powers are almost expended._ Fawkes whispered in his mind, the first signs of moulting on its greying feathers a testament to its statement.

 _If I aid the boy, the Child will no longer be under my protection._

 _All that remains will be a single light… left unguarded in the darkness._

"She will _not_ be taken," Albus vowed fervently in an undertone as his sky blue eyes gripped hold of the phoenix's beady orbs.

The creature, a paragon of the light, dipped its head in respect with his master's wishes and turned towards the young wizard that was starting to foam at the mouth. Turning its head sideways, it let out a few mournful chirps as hot tears spilt out of its glassy eyes onto the wound on James' forearm, the miraculous liquid effortlessly sealing up the wound without leaving behind any trace of a scar.

Fawkes realized its time was up the moment it released those tears and turned back to Albus, its warm voice skirting across the top his mind with one final sentence as it slowly disintegrated into flames.

 _Trust your heart… and your mind shall follow._

Albus processed the cryptic statement in his mind as he waited for phoenix to fully transmute into a pile of burning ash before gently scooping out the cheeping chick that was left and pocketing it in the never-ending layers folds of his robes. He then turned back to the now groggy but uninjured teenager that still remained supine on the floor.

"P-Professor?" James asked in slight disorientation when the haze on his eyes dissipated and the pain in his body vanished into nothingness, unsure if he was dreaming as he blearily looked up into the concerned face of his revered Headmaster.

"James Potter," Albus started in a quiet voice, his eyes downcast as a shadow of guilt flashed over his face, "I swear on Merlin's name that you shall not be harmed under my watch again, for as long as I have the power to prevent it."

Before James could respond coherently, Albus gently but firmly reaching out with one arm to bring him unsteadily up to his feet before immediately leading him over to the now open and safe to access trunk.

"Time runs short. Do you recall what the diadem looks like?" Albus pithily continued as they leaned over to peer into the trunk.

What they did not except when they looked in however, was to be greeted by a breath-taking collection of shining trinkets, bizarre curios and exotic apparel. This cache seemed equivalent to a treasure chamber of the Gods, where petrified roses that gave off a pulsing throbs of magic stood beside polished diamonds that were cut to perfection, where handfuls of soft iridescent crystals that gave off an ever changing display of light lay adjacent to leather cinctures that encompassed each other, each one untouched and quivering.

Ariana had truly been having the time of her life, as Albus recognized this hoard was comprised of the priceless and innumerable number of objects that were originally housed within the Room of Requirement.

"James, which one is it?" he asked with a strong sense of urgency in his voice, his eyes then averting away from the trunk for some unknown reason.

"There… there are so many," James breathed in slight panic as his eyes flittered from each dazzling object to the next, "I-I will need time to find it."

He then looked back up with a question in mind, tilting his head in slight confusion as he noticed that his Headmaster had his eyes cast away from the chest, "Umm… sir? Why don't you help me find it?"

"There are reasons which I do not have time to explain," Albus immediately responded, his eyes still fixated on an object in the far distance, "Ariana needs us, you need to make haste, please."

James nodded grimly from the unfeigned plea and dived into the heart of the opulent hoard, tossing objects out of his way and even chasing some with his hand as sentient teacups, daggers and even a loincloth scuttled away from his grasp.

A tense couple of minutes passed before James retracted his head from inside then trunk and triumphantly raised a shining diadem in the air, "Professor, I have it," he cried triumphantly.

Albus' face grew tight as he nodded, still not looking at the object as he bounded over to a nondescript wall in the far end of his office, muttering something under his breath after to open a secret passageway that was cut into the side of the wall. It was more of a hidden sepulchre really, as potions and other outlandish ingredients were housed on a wooden table in the centre of a shallow room.

He quickly counted past a row numerous vials along with his fingers, moving along the edge of the table as he scanned the contents of each bottle to search for the one he needed.

 _Let's see… Veritaserum, Felix Felicis, Mopsus Potion, Grand Wiggenweld Potion, and the Basilisk venom should be…_

" _No,_ " he gasped in horror as he fingers enclosed onto empty space, the vials all but present.

Albus froze on the spot as his mind raced through all the times he had even touched the vials after he had placed them here, "No, no, no. This is impossible," he muttered to himself in dread, his still hand outstretched and frozen in the air, "The only people who know where the vials were kept are me and…"

His eyes widened in terror as a rush of adrenaline kicked-started his body back into gear. He turned towards the door and rushed through its doorway with the Elder Wand already prepared in his hand, only now noting that it was gone strangely quiet in his office.

A blast of white light immediately greeted him upon exiting, causing his aged heart to pump more viscously as he gave out a yelp and automatically conjured a translucent silver shield in the air to protect him. The hostile beam of light then rebounded upwards off the shield with a hollow gong and sputtered out harmlessly when it reached the stone ceiling. Albus narrowed his eyes through the diminishing brightness, noticing that the teenage boy he had just pledged to protect was – what he hoped – unconscious on the floor. Next to him however, soon a figure that he knew oh so well.

"Hello Professor, what-"

"Get out of her body, Tom," Albus spoke in a strangely even voice as he cut off the poised young witch, the cold and cruel eyes alongside the arrogant manner she carried as she spoke not fooling him in the slightest.

Ariana's – no, Tom Riddle's eyes lit up in satisfaction, "Quick-witted as always, Albus," he smirked. "By the way, don't worry, I've already taken care of all your venom, thanks to all the knowledge up here," he continued as he tapped on the side of his new head.

He then gave a predatory grin that stretched from ear to ear, "And the answer to your question is… no," he softly crooned, "I will not get out of her bod-"

He never got to finish his sentence as a beam of powerful red light thundered towards him, causing his eyes to widen by a fraction as he dived out of the way. He looked back at Albus as he leapt agilely to his feet, shivering in an unidentifiable emotion as he spotted undiluted fury in his opponent's eyes, one that changed the visage of gentle Professor into a terrifying machine of war and ruination.

"Do you seriously not care for the girl? You would risk-"

He clamped his mouth shut as a large sickly bolt of orange suddenly hurtled towards him without any precautionary indications. Hastily drawing upon the wells of power stored deep inside this small body, he instinctively managed to create a shield of pure light that simply _absorbed_ the incoming spell, the effect not leaving a single trace of magic after.

Tom looked down at his small hands after he deactivated the shield, "Fascinating," he murmured in wonder, "What limits to untapped magic does this girl have?"

That brief distraction was more than enough time for Albus to leap forward as his Elder Wand recognized the opportunity and energized with him a surge of overflowing magic, " _I WILL DESTROY YOU FROM WITHIN,"_ he roared, his powerful voice resonating around the room as he thrust his wand towards the possessed girl with the intent to enter the mind, " _LEGILIMENS!"_

The intimidating sight causing Tom to unconsciously freeze in terror for a millisecond before scrambling to reinforce his Occlumency shields. However, this second time where his guard was lowered punished him more severely than the first, as he felt the most powerful presence he had ever come across in his mind brutally tear through the first layer of his mental defences as if it were made of wet paper.

Although his second layer of protection put up more of a resistance than the first, the rampaging intruder soon caused it to crumble into nothingness like chaff left on the summer threshing floors. Gritting his teeth in rage, he then plummeted into his mind to meet the seemingly unstoppable invader, the only person he truly feared on this planet, head on.

* * *

James gave a soft groan of annoyance when he regained consciousness, rubbing his blearily eyes for the second time that evening as his mind was suddenly kick-started into activity by something unknown after being rendered unconscious . With squinted eyes, he looked around the room after pulling himself to his feet, immediately spying two unmoving figures in the far end of the office.

Blinking twice to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, his legs unconsciously started moving on their own as he approached with curiosity. His movement became more cautious as he almost tiptoed to the two still figures, noticing as he drew closer that each person was staring into each other's eyes with a look of utmost fury.

"Err… Professor Dumbledore? Ariana?" he asked in a nervous tone, totally bewildered with the strange position they were both in.

After getting no response after calling their names a few more times, James suddenly remembered the task he was assigned to and furiously whipped his head around in order to search for the object that he was last clinging onto before his world turned to black. As he bounded over to the other side of the room, near the entrance to his Headmaster's office, he tripped over something that he could have sworn was not there a few seconds ago.

"Bloody hell," James swore as steadied himself. He then gave a grunt of surprise as he recognized the offending article near his foot. Picking it up gingerly, he held it to his eye-level and ran his eyes over its shining surface in admiration, appreciating the expertly inscribed name that was etched into the steel along the blade as he read it out loud.

" _Godric Gryffindor,"_ he whistled, his mind temporarily forgetting what was at hand as he looked over the ancient sword once more, the grip perfectly snug in his hand – as if it were somehow meant for his palm.

His absorption was then interrupted as an object suddenly rolled out from underneath the couch next to him with a tinkling sound, causing him to give a start of surprise from the sudden movement as it came to a stop at his foot. Observing that it was a vial that contained a green mixture that swirled within its glass confides, he deftly snatched it up and raised it high in the air to inspect it under a nearby candle, the viscous liquid giving off an eerie and dangerous vibe.

Instinctively turning back to Professor Dumbledore for help, he then walked with purpose towards the stationary figures with the legendary sword in one hand, and the strange vial in another. Increasing the volume of his voice in a the small hope that this mysterious trance would be somehow broken, he yelled ambitiously, "PROFESSOR, WHAT DO I DO WITH-"

His tongue caught in his throat as the two motionless figures suddenly doubled over on the spot, life finally infusing back into their physical bodies as they both regained mobility of their bodies – both of them also panting hard for some unknown reason. Misunderstanding the situation, James gave a large grin and was about to get another word in, but something stopped him and chilled him to the core.

"Is this all you can muster, old fool?" he heard Ariana snarl with a cruel smirk that spread across her face, a torrent of sweat that meandered down her pretty face causing hair to stick to her skin as she pushed herself off her knees to stand up straight.

"I am both the Alpha and the Omega in the domain of the subconscious," she continued in the same tone, leering up at Professor Dumbledore in triumph, "You had no chance of winning from the start."

James' mouth opened and shut silently a few times from the bizarre utterance. Noticing that Professor Dumbledore had pointed his oddly shaped wand at the young witch in response, he suddenly realized that something was very, very wrong. Ariana's eyes carried none of the gentle softness she unconsciously displayed – no matter the situation – but instead held an amalgamation of malevolence, spite, and perversion.

His musings were interrupted as vivid green eyes that were a constant reminder of Lily suddenly swung towards him, swiftly noticing his presence from his close proximity. The cold eyes then moved downward and were instantly filled with unsuppressed rage as they recognized the objects he was holding in one of his hands.

"I made sure that all of the vials were destroyed. _Where did you get that_?" Ariana hissed in rage as she pointed his wand at the vial in his hand faster than anyone could react, " _EXPULSO_!"

Albus roared in response as he swished his wand to block the spell, but was too late as the spell sped across the room and caused a carefully controlled explosion in James's hand, knocking the vial high into the air before shattering it mid-air and spraying its contents across the room in his James' general direction.

James howled in agony as the spell shattered every bone in his hand. However, his primal instincts were stronger than the current pain as he still remained conscious of the situation thanks to a massive surge of adrenaline, shutting his eyes and holding up the only thing that was available to shield his body from a deluge of what he deduced to be something harmful in nature.

 _I should be dead. I should be dead. I should be… dead?_

After hair-raising sounds of sizzling finally subsided, James slowly opened one eye in trepidation, only to notice that the stone on the floor around him was pockmarked with little depressions where the liquid had eaten straight through the floor. He patted himself down with his uninjured hand and assumed – with a burst of elation – that he had somehow, miraculously avoided every single droplet of viscous fluid that rained from above.

"Of course," he heard Professor Dumbledore murmur with a gasp of realization, "The sword imbibes only that which strengthens it."

A growing coalescence of light originating from the young witch in the room caused James to yelp and instinctively dive to his right, landing roughly behind a sofa as he narrowly avoided a beam of bright green. Quickly casting a numbing charm on his mangled hand in the brief respite, he sighed in pleasure the pain swiftly vanished, offhandedly noticing after that he was tucked up against the same sofa where he found sword and vial together.

The sounds of inhuman growling and objects being destroyed soon picked up and peaked as the office was slowly destroyed in from an intense duel that ensued. He then heard Professor Dumbledore shout something that caused the young girl to almost scream in a maddened frenzy.

" _JAMES, USE THE SWORD TO DESTROY THE DIADEM!"_

James was not an ignorant nor a slow-witted teenager. His library back in Potter Manor housed many books on ancient tomes and scrolls about dark artifacts, and had perused through almost all of them in his spare time. He knew that the shiny trinket that was chanced upon on that fateful day was the source of the madness that was happening.

He leaned heavily into the sofa as he peered over the top to spot the diadem. He then frowned briefly in confusion as he could have sworn in Merlin's name that he felt the sofa squirm and audibly groan when he propped himself up against it. Shaking his head and dismissing it as a figment of his imagination as he had other dire issues to worry about, his keen eyes roved about until he finally spotted the object of his interest near one of the bookcases near the duelling pair.

" _PROFESSOR, COVER ME!"_ James yelled over the sofa as another round of adrenaline began to surge through his veins, the hero complex within rearing up and promptly expelling any traces of doubt and fear that were lingering within his subconscious.

With every ounce of trust in his headmaster invested, he leapt out from behind the safe confines of the sofa and made a dash for the glittering diadem as a terrifying duel raged on, ducking and dodging past bits of flying debris, pieces of razor-sharp glass and wayward spells. However, the creature that had possessed Ariana had instantly noticed his intentions out of the corner of its eye and turned it wand towards the sprinting teenager.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

James dived to his right as soon as he heard the incantation but soon realized that he had severely miscalculated the distance of his lunge a millisecond after, and watched with growing horror as the Unforgivable spell rushed towards his body that was slowly falling to the floor.

His surprise was then replaced by confusion as his world sudden turned a rich, earthy brown. As his brain sped up its mental processes, he realized that his saviour came in the form of a glad slab of rock that was conjured out of thin air to block the spell.

" _JAMES, I HAVE YOU,"_ Albus bellowed as he deflected another spell that fired off in rapid succession at the young wizard who was still stunned on the floor, " _GO_!"

James nodded and made one last charge at the diadem, raising the Sword of Gryffindor up high just as he did with the serpents he destroyed earlier this evening, but this time with only one hand as the other was broken and unusable. His grim countenance neither flinched nor wavered as he felt a multitude of spells come dangerously close to his back, his near tangible faith in in Professor Albus manifesting in his steadfast stride as he still refused to look back at the dangerous witch.

 _Ten more steps… five… three… two…_

James finally reached within striking distance of the object with a breathless gasp and looked back, the sword held high up in the air. The duellers paused their battle as they stared at him, one face showing a look that promised utmost pain and death, while the other exuded only compassion and hidden strength.

"Ariana belongs to no one… but _HERSELF_ ," James roared loudly in finality as he swung the sword down with every last bit of strength he had left, the sword humming as it slashed through the thick air.

The possessed witch gave one final spine-chilling scream of rage as she hurled a foul-smelling, yellow spell at his exposed back, but was too late as the blade struck the diadem just before the spell reached him.

A blinding flash came from the point where the tip of the sword had struck as a white cloud of smoke instantly engulfed the office. Windows shattered, books hurled themselves off bookshelves from the gale force winds that ensued, and thousands of pieces of fragmented wood rained down from the sky onto the opaque mist that consumed the room.

Thirty seconds had passed after the calamity ended, and only then did the loud ringing in James' ears finally start to settle down, the pervading mist also beginning to clear as his incessant coughing subsided. The swirling blur of dust that had been kicked up by the unnatural gust of wind slowly calmed down as gravity grasped onto every dust particle and dragged it towards the floor in an unyielding grasp.

"P-Professor?" James coughed weakly when he saw a hazy silhouette against the backdrop of the lessening fog, its tall, shadowy outline suggesting that it was carrying something small in its arms.

A tired face soon emerged from the murkiness and gave James a smile so sincere and warm that he felt tears pickle at the corner of his eyes as he grinned madly back in return.

"Well done, James Potter, proud son of Charlus and Dorea Potter," Professor Dumbledore whispered as his emotions ran high, hugging an unconscious girl that carried a look of complete peace on her face even tighter in his gentle arms.

"Well done."

Thus, the Horcrux, a diadem that originally belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, which carried within its recesses a fragment of Tom Riddle's very own soul, was the first of its kind to be destroyed. Unknowingly vanquished by a young wizard that stood tall as he looked upon the scenes of his first battle, barely noticing the destroyed interior of the room as his hand still held the sword in an iron grip.

As the last fragmented remnants of the diadem were lifted up and swept away from the gentle breeze that lightly wafted through the room, James gave a soft smile as looked upon the slumbering girl, memories flashing in his mind of her radiant smiles, ones which would always light up any room she was in, and the strange way she would often look at him – a soul-piercing look that would often give him comfort, even if he didn't know why.

 _Ariana..._

 _...you're safe now._

* * *

A/N: Thank you everyone for the recent feedback, you have given me a lot to think about!

P.S. A special shout-out to **Nemesis13** for giving me extra motivation to write!


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 22**

Voldemort whipped his head around violently and gazed into the distance as he suddenly felt something odd snap within his chest, his eyes piecing through the encroaching fog as they easily navigated through the looming trees that sought to impede his vision, even in the dark. His failed attempt to acquire the Dementors was still sore on his mind, but did not faze him as he had immediately turned to some of his more promising endeavours.

His brief distraction was then interrupted by a deep baritone voice that rumbled melodically through the forest, "Lord Voldemort, the Elders are ready."

Voldemort shook off the foreboding feeling, storing that thought away for later as he turned back to the figure that addressed him, not in the least intimidated by the muscly form that towered over him.

"Thank you, Bane, son of Brimerth," he nodded smoothly.

The mighty Centaur rumbled in surprise as he began to escort the enigmatic wizard to the inner sanctum of his clan's secret abode, "You knew my mother?" he asked curiously, his mighty hooves trotting past tense guards that stood vigilant as they carried flickering torches, illuminating the cracked, earthen path they walked on.

"I only know of the cruel fate that befell her, at the hands of rapacious wizards," Voldemort replied evenly.

Bane immediately grew quiet, memories of mother starting to flash through his mind as he began to think about her for the first time in years, "That was many, many years ago," he softly replied after a pause, "Humans have changed since those days."

Voldemort gave a light, mocking scoff, "Do you truly believe that? Humans are invariably and inexorably drawn to fear things they don't fully understand."

Bane pulled a strange face as he looked down at the odd wizard, "You… speak as if you are not one of their kind," he grunted with a raised eyebrow, intrigue lining his face.

A subtle upward quirk formed at the edge of Voldemort's mouth as he titled his head at the creature at his side, "Centuries ago, a curious group of Muggles coined a rather peculiar term that still resonates to this very day – _Transubstantiation_ ," he lectured, taking on the tone of a cultured emeritus, "The ineffable transcendence of an object into a new, more metaphysical form."

"This…" he continued, the smirk growing wider on his face as power burned within the depths of his smouldering, black eyes, "…I have achieved."

Bane gave a thoughtful hum as he opted not to reply to the cryptic statement. They then continued the rest of their journey in silence before they suddenly heard a murmur of distant voices, a gentle thrum that blended harmoniously with the sound of a nearby brook that babbled and bubbled softly in the dark. Coming to a halt after a few more paces, they finally reached a high leather tent that was cleverly camouflaged and almost hidden from view in the dense bushes.

Bane looked upwards to the glowing planets and scintillating stars that dotted the heavens above as they started to shift ever so slightly in the brilliant night sky, their celestial bodies morphing from nebula to white dwarf, neutron star to pulsar **,** red giant to supernova, their captivating image weaving together effortlessly like a half-done tapestry still in its loom.

He looked down at the wizard that accompanied him as his eyes grew lidded, an ancient magic settling on his tongue and temporarily granting him access to a hereditary power which had been passed down from his father, who in turn inherited it from his father's father, and so on.

"The stars themselves part for your coming, like a golden sea split in half," he started in a low voice, almost lulling Voldemort with his hypnotic tone as he continued, "The path of power you have chosen to walk down leads only to solitude."

"Your upcoming trials will be forged in a wreath of Fire, annealed by a flash of White, and tempered with the Hallows themselves. There will be no other wizard in existence that will be as tested as you will," he carried on in the same tone, magic encompassing every emphatic word.

"Heir of Slytherin, you are a wizard like no other, _for there is no other_."

Bane then gave breathless gasp as broke out his trance, blinking in slight confusion and catching his haggard breath as he looked down at the wizard at his side, noticing that a contemplative and meditative look was adorning the said human's face.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he engaged every thought process available in his brain, preparing a profusion of questions before he started to speak, "What do you mean by-"

Bane simply raised a hand to interrupt his escort, quietening him down until there was only silence again the depths of the Forbidden Forest, "Young one, I can't answer any of your questions, for what just transpired had nothing to do with you and me, but instead, something far… _greater_."

With that final word, Bane gave a respectful nod in farewell before turning on the spot and trotting back into the forest without another sound, leaving the wizard behind as his enormous hooves kicked up a trail of dust that hung lazily in the midnight air.

"Bane, son of Brimerth, I will remember your words well," Voldemort murmured, wiping all traces of the previous encounter from his face as he lifted the flap that covered the tent's entrance up to enter, eager to meet the council of Elders that had responded to his message to quickly.

Upon entering, it was striking obvious that the interior was magically expanded, as a massive chamber instantly greeted him. Light reached neither wall nor ceiling as his vision was confined to a single illuminated path in the wide area in front of him. Inky black shadows sloshed against the narrow strip of light as he started to walk down the only path available, faintly hearing the sporadic sounds of gnashing teeth and bestial grunts coming from the opaque darkness around him.

After a full minute of walking, he came to a halt as the source that bestowing its light onto his path turned itself off, leaving him stranded in complete darkness. As he waited patiently on the spot, his word suddenly turned to white as light flooded the entirety of the grand hall, not flinching in the slightest even though he was temporarily blinded.

He blinked twice as his pupils contracted to adjust for this new amount of light, his eyes then feasting upon a rather rare sight, even by the Centaur's standards.

"Very… theatrical, Elders," he smirked, a confident look spreading across his handsome face as his eyes skimmed over each of the nine figures that stood in a semi-circle before him, noting the ornate decorations that were draped all over their frail and elderly bodies. He instantly recognized them as the leaders of the nine tribes that dwelled within the Forbidden Forest, each clan living in relative peace between each other since Centaurs were not an intrinsically violent race.

The Centaur that stood in the middle – flanked by four of her kin on each side – was the obvious spokesperson of the congregation as she snorted with amusement from the impertinent greeting before committing to speech, "Well met, Dark Lord Voldemort," she began, her pale fur, milky eyes and white hair giving a rather striking image, "My name is Sakas, of the tribe of Mars. I am also the voice of the Council."

She the lowered her head in what seemed like approval before continuing, "Late is the hour you approach us, but swift is the message delivered," she spoke in a loud and clear voice, "Your zeal had earned you an audience."

With the conclusion of the terse introduction, she then gave the waiting wizard a nod – a cue for him to begin speaking. Voldemort's eyes lit up as he began his speech, drawing the eyes of every Centaur onto his every move as he emphatically gestured as he spoke, enrapturing them with a fiery diatribe against the current state of the Wizarding World, a tale he had regaled so many times before to other magical races – albeit slightly altered each time.

Thirty minutes quickly passed as the charismatic wizard orated with passion, uninterrupted in his grand speech as his voice skirted on the lows and flew on the highs, captivating the Centaurs on a wild ride from start to finish.

"… from womb to tomb, Centaurs will have a place in society as much as the next wizard or witch," Voldemort powerfully promised as he struck his fist onto his palm, "This, I can guarantee."

As his breathless audience looked on in anticipation for more, Voldemort disappointed them by lowering his hands and retracting some intoxicating magic he was subconsciously oozing, "That is all I have to say, the rest is up to you" he ended, falling silent and stepping back as he waited for their collective decision.

A dry cough from the snow-white Centaur, Sakas, broke the momentary stupor and galvanized her brethren into action as she barked out words in a strange language that even the learned Voldemort could not understand. They huddled around each other as they discussed the possible futures their race could come to pass if they became allies with this new Dark Lord, snarling, biting and disagreeing with each other as their conversation turned into heated debate.

Voldemort's patience was wearing thin as he stood stationary on the spot with his hands clasped in front of him. He showed none his annoyances on his cool, collected face as he began to grow tired of listening to the ancient, harsh language that grated on his ears. Just as he was about to say something, the council quietened down and trotted slowly back to their original positions, the interspaced geometries inexplicably perfect as they formed an exact semicircle around him once more.

Sakas bowed her head low as she turned towards the waiting wizard, "Dark Lord Voldemort, your cause is indeed grand. The Centaurs will… _not_ aid in you in your cause however, no matter how noble it may be."

Shock registered on Voldemort's face too quickly to hide it from the Centaurs. He quickly wiped it off his handsome visage as confused anger welled up within him, feeling slightly betrayed since this was the first time a magical race had denied their allegiance to him after listening to his oration.

Sakas noticed a black look growing on the wizard's face and hurriedly began to explain the mechanisms that drove the council's decision, "Dark Lord, we are a strictly democratic society. With nine tribes, every decision is either for or against – we never have stalemates. The decision was even to the very last second, but fell in favour of abstaining on the final vote."

Voldemort's eyes smouldered as they pierced hers, "And who cast the last vote?" he asked softly, dangerously.

"It was I, Dark Lord Voldemort," Sakas declared loudly, raising her head high as she looked down at the powerful wizard in an all-knowing gaze.

Voldemort's volatile fury then turned to bitter and scathing anger as he started to pace up and down, his voice growing furious in intensity as he began to condemn their seemingly asinine decision.

"So, you would choose to remain slaves then? Bound under the yoke the Wizards and Witches have cast upon your spineless necks, meek and terrified from the threat of fire and brimstone?" he spat, unconsciously leaking tendrils of magic as he grew more fervid, "You would remain ostracized deep within the Forbidden Forest? You would not take back the freedom that was unjustly wrenched from your grasp, as you fester away in your squalid huts with no true place to call home?"

"Your sons and daughters will taste the whip of Man upon their bare backs," he continued, trembling in fury, "As they release a cry of despair that the world has never heard before."

His face then lost all traces of anger as he donned a weary and tired look. He stopped his pacing, his breathing slowing down as he lowly intoned to his frozen listeners in bitterness, "You… disappoint me, Centaurs."

A weapon suddenly appeared in his field of view, a razor-sharp trident wielded by a Centaur adorned with a gleaming cuirass across his upper torso and leather vambraces on his forearms, "Do not insult the Elders," the high-ranking guard growled.

A millisecond before Voldemort was about to explode with forceful violence, Sakas waved a hand hastily in the air, her loud voice easily going over and silencing the eruption of low murmurs that had spread throughout the gathered Elders.

"Stand down Pholus, the Dark Lord before us speaks nothing but the undiluted truth."

A jolt ran through Voldemort as he saw a flash of deep longing hidden within the white Centaur's eyes, " _Why?_ " he gasped, causing Sakas to turn to him, "I know you fully understand why I have come to you, and of my ambitions and my desires. Then _why_?"

Sakas closed her eyes with a sigh of some unidentifiable emotion before she opened them, looking straight into the pits of Voldemort's orbs in what seemed like regret.

"Truth be told, if you had come to us two full moons earlier, we would have readily joined your cause," she revealed in a soft voice.

"Elucidate," Voldemort instantly demanded, still emphatic in his manner of speech.

Sakas remained silent for a brief second before replying, aware that eight pairs of ancient eyes were intensely watching her every move, "For me to answer that question, you shall first have to answer one of mine," she announced, her voice now careful and controlled.

She took a deep breath before continuing, her aged face displaying centuries of experience, "Vice and strife, want and war, victory and defeat, lordship and thraldom, all sealed with the seal of blood: this is the monstrous History of Man. From the very beginning of time to this very day, it continues."

She paused briefly before looking down at him, "You wish to seek peace through death and bloodshed, do you not? How can you possibly achieve what _no Man_ before you has done?"

Voldemort did absolutely nothing after the question had been thrown at him, standing absolutely still as his billowing, black robes gently curved around his body from an airy breeze that danced through the grand hallway. He then looked back up at the waiting Centaurs, his eyes starting to glow as he began to take off his dark robes unexpectedly, talking as he slowly disrobed.

"I do not need land _nor_ shelter," he whispered softly as uncovered arms came into the light, the outlines of past rituals etched into his blemished skin as black tattoos, "I do not need sleep _nor_ sunlight," he continued as his tone started to get louder, his bare chest now exposed for all the world to see, the scars of ancient, forbidden runes carved deep into his flesh.

"I do not require food _nor_ water," he cried out passionately, his robes now down to his ankles as perfectly chiselled legs revealed themselves, their muscles hardened and fortified by a layer of primordial magic.

Voldemort's senses heightened as he gave a terrifying display of magic, "I do not age," he shouted, raw power consciously radiating in every direction as his young body now stood fully unclothed in front of the ancient council, "Magical attacks have almost no effect on me. Physical assaults – even less."

"I have even defied nature," he continued in a cry as his fully exposed body, truly a living work of art, now brandished itself to his wide-eyed audience in full view, " _FOR I HAVE CONQUERED DEATH ITSELF_." He took a deep breath as every pore on his body started to electrify with pure, unadulterated magic, readying itself for something extraordinary.

" _ **I AM NO MAN**_ _."_

His fearsome roar was unconsciously magnified a hundredfold by his magic and almost defeated every Centaur in the proximity as it shook the Forbidden Forest to life in the dead of the night. Trees swayed dangerously on the spot, waking arboreal mammals from their slumber as a wave of crepitating magic washed over them. Nocturnal creatures – owls, voles, badgers, and even a wild Hippogriff – froze as they were, abandoning their hunts as they lifted their furry heads towards the swell of power, their instincts screaming at them to flee.

Sakas has almost a glazed look on her face as she unconsciously stretched her hand out to the tantalizing magic that was being emitted by the visibly glowing wizard. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she wet her dry lips with her tongue as raw anticipation tingled in her ancient bones, a feeling she had not experienced in many years. This was the chance she had been waiting for her entire life, this man… no – creature, could save everyone that mattered in a manner she previously thought impossible.

It took a while for the reverberating sounds to finally dampen and fade out of existence from the grand hall, leaving behind only the sound of laboured breathing and beating hearts in its wake.

"I… I promised you an explanation, Dark Lord," Sakas managed to start through the silence, her loud words causing her still-ringing eardrums to give her a mild wave of pain, "Of which I shall bequeath unto you."

The other Centaurs were deathly silent as she continued solemnly, "Our magic is already betrothed to another."

Voldemort blinked owlishly before retracting all traces of magic back into his body, opting to stand there unclothed until he got all the answers he needed, "Elucidate," he calmly replied, his voice now completely back to its normal mellifluous tone.

"A being of power came to us recently, breathing life into this forest and instilling us with visions of countless futures that paved promising pathways for our declining species."

"A being of… power," Voldemort muttered to himself, subtly narrowing his eyes in thought before turning back to the pale Centaur with a mix of feelings, "Was it Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts?" he intoned.

"Nay," Sakas instantly replied as she shook her head, "It was one far stronger. One brimming with such magic, that would threaten the balance of this world should it ever awaken."

Now Voldemort's curiosity was burning like a wildfire inside of him, "There is one stronger than the old fool?" he murmured, widening his eyes in shock as he looked back up, "Wait… what did you mean by _awaken_?"

"My tongue can reveal no more, Dark Lord," Sakas responded, slight regret tinging her voice. She then leaned in close to the stark-naked wizard, her snow-white hair spilling forwards and covering her face from the action as she continued speaking.

"We can forcefully break the contract, but… it would mean a temporary loss of our prophetic powers," she said slowly, lowering her tone while her eyes darted around, as if afraid of something.

Voldemort gave a loud bark of laughter in response to the statement, causing the present members to sit up straighter from the sudden noise and narrow their eyes accusingly at him.

"I have manpower beyond reckoning. Dragons, Hags, Vampires, the lost tribes of Merpeople, and more," he yelled with fire burning within his eyes, spreading his arms wide dramatically as if to encompass the world itself.

"What they all lack however, is _wisdom_ ," he continued, whirling back to the pale Centaur, "I have no need for your prophecies or soothsayers, only for your council ancient ones, so we may destroy this diseased world, reclaiming unparalleled order and balance as we rebuild it from its ashes– just like in the days of Old."

Sakas could not believe her ears. In front of her, was the first stepping stone for something she had yearned for centuries: a promise of the restoration of her fallen people, and for all the discarded and abused races around the world that longed for a place in society.

"Yes… _YES!"_ she bellowed as she whirled back to face her silent companions, their piercing eyes full of wariness, "What say you, brothers and sisters? Shall we reclaim the world for our sons and daughters, a world which they could only dream of in whispers? A world where the young and innocent would not be neither spat upon, nor shunned, nor cast out like lepers and beggars?"

Her words hung heavily in the air, staining the silent atmosphere until finally, one of the mighty beasts raised its head high and trotted forward, the first Elder apart from Sakas to speak.

"Of course, Lady Sakas, Maiden of Mars, Agent of War, wants to bring her species to ruination through the clashing of steel and the howling of wolves," the new Centaur spat in hostility, his jet black fur a stark juxtaposition against the milky-white coat of the creature he was addressing.

Sakas clicked her tongue in anger, "Still your tongue Pollux, Hand-servant to Saturn, Lord of Melancholy," she snapped, "You dare not raise a hoof unless a vision is repeated ten times over in the stars, for the fear of the slightest event going awry."

"I wield the mastery of balance and foresight," Pollux growled loudly, his large muscles writing like a turgid flood under his aged skin, "And I know this dark path will lead us to places where our ancestors would never dare to tread on."

A reddish-brown Centaur then interrupted the arguing duo, her gentle countenance instantly signalling that she was the leader of the tribe of Venus, where solidarity, equality and desire reigned supreme.

"Sakas, what about the Fire?" she asked softly, her euphonious tone stirring various emotions in every being present, "Would you abandon the fanning of the Flame – that you yourself, were the first to kindle?"

" _Damn_ the Fire" Sakas snarled, hardening her heart and dispelling the effects that threatened to sway her, "We will follow the Fates no longer. The auspices of late have not once provided us with freedom nor security. Ask yourself this, why do we owe them so?"

Ignoring the two challengers, she turned to the rest of the group as she uttered her final say, "My friends," she started distinctly, "Instead of prophesizing countless versions of the future, as we have for decades, hoping for a miracle, we have been now been gifted the opportunity to change it _with our very own hands._ "

"Now, who will stand with me?" she bellowed, democracy all but left behind in the dust.

A unanimous chorus of cries filled the air, glorious in its majesty as almost all the ancient Centaurs had all been swayed by charismatic duo that had presented to them for the past hour, the captivating wizard and the fearsome Lady of War.

Not everyone joined in the victory cry however, as two figures began to slowly walk away from the congregation, their heads down in defeat as the leaders of the tribe of Saturn and Venus despondently made for the exit, sure in their hearts that their brethren were making a grave mistake.

Sakas knew that this was the expected response and let them pass without another look at them, as if damning them to their own fate. She then turned around and was about to speak but froze mid-sentence, as another Centaur steadily turned on the spot and walked away from the group towards the exit as well.

She recognized who it was.

"Lord Argo, of the tribe Neptune, Wayfarer of Dreams," she called out in an unnaturally loud voice, the feeling of a knife stabbing and twisting in her heart as she watched a close friend halt from the sound of her voice, "You would shy from this one chance to watch with your waking eyes as reality kneels before you?"

The said Centaur turned his head around ever so slightly and gave a distracted smile, as if his mind was in another plane of existence, "We all have a part to play in the grand scheme of life, Sakas," Argo replied in a far-away and dreamy voice, "Some… more than others."

Sakas clenched her teeth as the knife in her heart twisted further, "We… we made a promise many decades ago," she said slowly, her voice struggling to say even, "One which we swore with our dying breath shall come to pass before time takes us… have you forgotten it?"

Argo gave a large sigh as he turned away from her, talking as he trotted away from her "The promise holds," he called over his shoulder, "However, saving our people is neither up to you or me, but someone far _greater_."

He paused temporarily at the exit, not looking back as he said a final goodbye to someone who was once an ally and close friend, uttering a phrase in Centaur culture reversed for only the heartfelt of farewells, "May the stars bless the road you walk upon, Lady Sakas… proud leader of the Centaurs."

Scandalous gasps emerged from the guards while the Elders rumbled discontentedly from the utterance, as it was strictly taboo to mention who was really in charge of the ostracized society, the minute shifts in power and the intense debates to authorize or veto policies by the respective leaders of each of the nine tribes played a large part in every Centaur's life.

Sakas closed her eyes as she let the uneasy murmurs and whispers circulate around the room, hanging her head low and absorbed in thought as she struggled internally to plug up a hole in her heart. However, she was not the leader of the tribe of Mars without a reason.

Looking back up with the fire reignited in her eyes, she turned towards a waiting wizard, one which was fully clothed once again and exuded only curiosity to the scene as the secretive lifestyle of Centaurs was known to not many.

"You are six tribes strong, Dark Lord," she started strongly and confidently, her previous emotions all but extinguished from her face, "Each one filled with gifted young, tempered old, and valiant warriors that lie in-between."

Voldemort gave a pleased hum as he patted his robes down one final time, meticulously smoothing out creases and crinkles before turning towards the ancient beast, "Very well, Elders," he almost purred, unbridled excitement starting to light up on his handsome face as a thousand and one questions burned in his mind, "But first, before we begin, tell me, what is this… _Fire_ you constantly speak of _._ "

Sakas gave a smirk as she felt her magic leave her and her tongue loosen, not the slightest hint regret flowing through her veins at the loss as she put one hand on Voldemort's shoulder, gently ushering him deeper into their enclave, "I pray you are free till the morrow Dark Lord, for we there is much to discuss."

* * *

 _Some time later_

A sharp, broken sob pierced the air as a young girl lay hunched in a semi-dark corner of a deserted bathroom, her muscles contracting as if expelling her guts was the only thing she had ever known, her innards heaving to bring up only dribbles of black and red bile as they sullied the spotless floor she stood upon.

 _Unfair._

That was the only word that spiralled through her mind.

No matter how hard this young girl tried, no matter how hard she strived to be the person that her conscience wanted her to be, she was only ever punished for her ardency. A mass of guilt and failure sat atop her bosom while a fire burned down her throat and mind, fresh memories of slaughtered young men and women searing through her skin and into her body, snatching away every feeling of safety she ever had.

A wave of icy cold self-damnation sent shivers down her spine as her mind regurgitated image after image to her against her will, a macabre collage of sinew, flesh and bone that refused to pass from sight from her waking eyes.

Feeling as if she couldn't escape from the tormenting memories, she retched again, causing caustic fluids to pool on the white marble from her lips, its consistency now viscous and opaque. She then looked down after wiping her mouth with a trembling hand as she gazed expressionlessly at the floor, slightly envying the hard, white rock beneath her feet – for they were hard and lifeless, and unable to feel the afflictions of life.

Two weeks had passed since Ariana's mind had repaired itself. Only then, was she able to break her out of a self-induced coma, one that sought to stabilize and repair the abused recesses of her mind and violated magical core, the damage of the aftereffects from a possession not taken lightly by her body.

 _Unfair._

The word echoed in her head once more as she punched a hard wall forcefully with a closed fist in anger, her silver bracelet on her left wrist that was designed to keep her and everyone else safe adding to the bitter concoction as it burned with the vengeance of a thousand suns upon her pale skin.

The immense influx of pain caused Ariana to bite her lip to hold back a loud cry, clamping down hard with her teeth until her skin on her lips broke and blood started to flow. In a morbid way, she relished the newfound pain, as if it was the only way to atone for her sins.

It seemed like the harder she pushed, the harder the world pushed _back_.

A knock and muffled voice suddenly came through the door of the bathroom, nervous worry hidden and laced within a concerned tone, "Ariana, is everything okay?"

The young witch snapped her head up at the sound of a voice, her long, midnight black hair whipping up to hit her face from the action, its strands frayed and matted as it stuck to her damp skin in an unruly mess – a product from her paroxysm of self-condemnation.

Ariana stood up from her hunched position and straightened her hospital gown the best she could, rubbing her eyes and clearing her raw throat before replying, "Nothing's wrong," she called back steadily in a falsely bright tone, "I'll be just a minute."

There was a short pause on the other side of the door as it deliberated the response, "Okay," the voice simply replied, the slight hesitation relaying more information than it should have.

Ariana then gingerly made her way over the besmirched floor and stood herself before a misty mirror, wiping away coalesced vapours that called its shiny surface home akin to the sweeping hand of the morning sun as it evaporated the dew that nestled on the early blooms.

A miserable sight greeted her. Large, green, bloodshot eyes that were surrounded by skin so pale it seemed it would catch fire under the slightest ray of sunlight were framed by an unkempt tousled mass of onyx hair. The eyes looked tired and defeated, like an old solider falling in battle and wearily arriving at the gates of Elysium, only to realize that the peace that he had been fighting for his entire life was nothing but a lie, even in the world beyond.

Just then, a flicker of fire suddenly lit itself under the brazier of her heart. A tiny spark, nothing that the young witch felt initially, but a nascent one nonetheless. Large mood swings were not uncommon for her, much to her confused exasperation of course, as she felt the slow stirring beginnings of something within her chest. The young girl was much stronger than she herself knew, as time and time again she rose high above the persistent trials and tribulations that life had sent to strike her down.

"No _,"_ she whispered suddenly as she gazed back into her trembling face, the intangible fire now taking hold and suffusing through her body in an unstoppable tide. " _No,_ " she repeated in a louder voice, strength slowly starting to infuse back into her being.

"The person who did this… _was_ _not me_."

As soon as those decisive words were released from her mouth, the weight of the heavens she shouldered upon her back – the guilt, the sorrow, the self-damnation – suddenly vanished into nothingness, as if they were replaced with a pillar of feathers. The young witch then did a single figurative action which would forever change the course of her life from there on.

Ariana shrugged.

The weight of the world crashed down from her bloodied and bruised back as a long-lost flame that had threatened to completely vanish in the course of her deterioration started to kindle once more, cauterizing the wounds on her mangled shoulders as it blazed with an unyielding intensity and swallowed her soul whole.

Her heart filled with something absolutely glorious as she felt a nostalgic surge of magic crying for release from within, gasping loudly as she held up her hand in the air – wandless – and let forth a cry that she could never successfully accomplish the past few months after entering this strange new world.

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

A burst of brilliant light erupted from her outstretched palm, breathing forth a ghostly figure to life that sprung from her hand and pranced around the room, the blindingly bright animal letting out joyous cries as it celebrated its freedom. Noticing that the outline of her familiar stag was somewhat smaller than usual, she squinted her eyes as she tried to discern what she had just conjured, also slightly confused as to why her Patronus shimmered with such intensity.

Still unable to identify any features through shielded eyes and contracted pupils, she outstretched a hand gently with the intent to beckon the creature over before it vanished from whence it came. That seemed to work, as the soft sound of approaching hooves filled her with delight and made her curiously wonder if her stag had somehow shrunk in size.

Ariana felt something small soft nuzzle the back of her small hand with a rather odd feeling, as if warm water was being tenderly poured over the surface of her skin. Daring to peek with her eyes fully open, her wide eyes caught a flash of the animal that was looking at her before she was temporarily blinded.

Her eyes immediately shut themselves tight from the sudden glare, but not before recognizing what animal what standing before her. The floodgates of her heart wrenched themselves open as she let a loud laugh, a freeing laugh, a bittersweet laugh… a cathartic laugh.

It was a small fawn.

"Sorry little one, no Dementors here," she murmured softly after peeking once again, noticing that the small animal was looking around in slight confusion, "I'll call for you again, when you are needed."

With a nod that seemed to understand her very words, the sentient young deer gave her outstretched hand one last ghostly lick before nimbly leaping into the air and vanishing, its phantasmal body evanescing into the morning sunbeams of white light that penetrated the bathroom.

Ariana gave a thoughtful hum as the room was eventually restored it to its normal brightness, feeling her magic settle down into quiescence, "Huh… I'm guess the stag still belongs to Dad then, since he's still alive," she theorized in a mutter, slightly intrigued by the new form her Patronus took.

Her mind then cut off that train of thought as her thoughts shifted, turning down a path of absolute resolution, one with no path back, "I will never use Dark Magic… _ever_ again," she vowed fiercely to herself in an undying promise that she meant with all her heart and soul.

She suddenly felt something incredibly powerful shift within her after saying those words, as the white, unstable magic she always possessed – which had always been inexplicably locked away for some reason – now seemed readily accessible to her touch. Breath quickening in excitement, she was just about to call some of this mysterious power forth but a knock on the door caused her to forcefully retract back into her magical core in slight panic.

"Ariana, it's been five minutes."

The said young witch gave a small sound of surprise as she realized that someone was waiting for her. Still dazed from the previous event, she carelessly waved her hand to cast a quick healing charm on her lip and on her wrist and a cleaning spell towards the mess she created – all without consciously knowing she wasn't using a wand.

After deciding that she looked presentable enough in the mirror, she padded over to the bathroom door and opened it, only to be met by someone whom she loved unconditionally.

For some strange reason, the red-headed teenager that greeted her was the only one that was visiting her in the Hospital Wing on this fine Saturday morning. Shrugging nonchalantly, presuming that her other friends were preoccupied with schoolwork or other activities, she readily marched off beside the older witch.

Just as Ariana was about to get back into hospital bed, her young mother gently steered her away from it and plopped her down on a wooden chair instead, standing behind her and carrying something in her hands which always filled Ariana with dread when it was used upon her.

"What happened to your hair, young lady," Lily mock-admonished, wielding a hair-brush expertly in her hands as she patiently got out the stubborn mats and curls, ignoring the squeaks of pain that her young friend was emitting in the process.

Ten minutes of grooming passed quickly in the empty Hospital Wing, one where Ariana was still silent as she was still contemplating all that had transpired in the bathroom. Feeling the brushing finally come to a stop atop her head, she whirled around with some burning questions in her mind that needed some answering.

"Hey Lily, where is everyo–"

She never got to finish her sentence as her vision suddenly turned to black and her supply of air was cut off. Panicking momentarily, she soon stopped struggling as she realized she was being pressed hard into Lily's chest with a protective embrace that fully encompassed her small body.

"I heard from Professor Dumbledore about what happened," Lily murmured, her voice turning sorrowful. "A cursed object that sends its victim into an unwakeable slumber. I'm glad they found the vile thing and destroyed it," she continued with a breath of relief, "I dread to think what would happen otherwise."

Ariana perked her ears up, noting that the story was slightly augmented for the benefit of the students that were a part of it, saying nothing in response as all she did was snuggle in deeper into the warmth. There were times where she was glad she was reborn as a girl so she could be this physically intimate with her mother, a special feeling that she had never experienced, a special feeling she never knew she _needed_.

"Don't worry, you're safe now," Lily breathed softly and tenderly into her ear.

With that utterance, all the last vestigial traces of self-deprecation finally melted away from Ariana's heart and were immediately replaced with a harmonious medley of peace, faith, and hope, unconsciously letting out a sound that Ron would never stop hounding her if he ever found out she emitted it – a contented mewl.

Lily let out a chuckle of amusement when she heard the adorable sound, "Goodness gracious, you're like a kitten," she grinned, loosening the hug and taking the opportunity to pinch the young witch's cheeks in fondness.

Ariana giggled from the interaction and basked in the affection that she was being shown. In the recent weeks, she had tried her hardest to form a proper connection with her mother without the use of chicanery. Lily had often noticed her rather untidy state – a leftover trademark from her former male self – and took it into her own interests to teach her how to take care of her appearance daily. As the days and weeks passed, their relationship had only gotten stronger with time.

As they bantered and chatted away, Ariana looked happily up at the red-haired witch was that currently telling a rather lengthy joke, the light bouncing of her shimmering red hair and aesthetically pleasing features. Realizing something that should be been obvious a long time ago, she blurted out something that summersaulted its way to the top of her mind.

"You're like… _really_ pretty," she loudly broke in as she interrupted the other girl, wondering why in Merlin's name did she not notice this earlier. Perhaps her view of the said young adult was distorted, purely because she looked at her differently since she was her mother in the not too distant future.

Lily paused in her speech and blinked twice as she digested the seemingly random comment, "Err… thanks?" she replied unsurely. After realizing that the young witch was still staring intensely at her, she properly processed what was just said and gave a lopsided grin as she leaned in close.

"Actually," she whispered conspiratorially, her green eyes alight with playfulness, "You're the prettiest girl in your year, _by far_."

Ariana widened her eyes in genuine confusion as her eyebrows rose to the top of her head from the comment. When she first arrived after travelling through time, she was so focused on garnering the information and skills required to defeat Voldemort that she had never once looked at herself in _that_ way. She knew she wasn't plain looking by any standards, but she did not expect this to be said about her.

As if a filter had been removed from her eyes, she suddenly felt very conscious of her body. Blushing against her will from the close proximity of the other girl, she let out an awkward cough as turned her red face turned towards the ground, her hands fidgeting restlessly with each other as she thought of ways to respond to her first real compliment.

"Y-You think so?"

Lily drew back from the innocent eyes that gazed up at her and let out a completely unfeigned laugh from the childlike tone, "Bless my soul," she chuckled mirthfully, putting one hand on her heart, "You're just too precious for words."

That only made Ariana more bewildered as furrowed her brow and she scratched her head, tilting it quizzically as she struggled to figure out what was going on. She was a precocious child, a natural genius in many things, but this was one area she was woefully clueless in.

A faint noise outside the Hospital Wing's doors suddenly caught Ariana's attention, amplifying her perplexity as she looked around the deserted room once more, wondering even where Madam Pomfrey was.

Lily caught sight of her bothered countenance and bit her lip what seemed like poorly disguised guilt, "Err… Ariana?" she started, looking a little nervous, "Professor Dumbledore actually told me to cheer you up without the others interfering first," she confessed in a rushed tone, "The others are outside, waiting for us to finish. Sorry for leaving that part out."

Ariana's heart relaxed from the harmless admission, her face growing tranquil as her growing fears were now laid to rest. "It's okay, I quite enjoy your company," she said shyly, eager to jump at any opportunity to know her mother more, the signs of fighting an internal battle flashing across her face before continuing in a slow voice.

"Can… we do this again?"

Lily raised an eyebrow, "What? You mean, just talk?"

A fervent nod softened the edges of her heart as a natural instinct to nurture the desperate looking child blossomed and grew within her, "Sure, any time," she answered sincerely, not knowing just how much her approval to a seemingly innocuous request meant to the other young witch.

As if somehow their conversation was perfectly timed, the doors to the Hospital Wing burst open as they concluded their conversation, letting in a stream of students that ran and instantly surrounded them, all talking over each other at the same time.

 _No, I was wrong all along._ Ariana thought as she accepted a shower of gifts – mainly cream puffs from Honeydukes – laughing alongside innocent students that knew nothing but the blissful joys of life, spotting Madam Pomfrey's and Albus' face grinning at her from the open doorway amidst her laughter.

 _For all the hardship and misfortune that I have endured, I can only say one thing…_

She gave a slow exhale as looked over every person in the room just one more, feeling her spirits soar upwards towards an unending horizon, shimmering and golden in all its majesty.

… _It's worth it._


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **A/N:** Sorry for the choppy updates recently. They will soon be back to normal, so please bear with me!

P.S. To all the readers – new and old– a big thank for all your support to keep my passion alive for this story. All the best, there's lots more to come!

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

 _Some time later_

The methodical clanking of steel upon steel chimed a rather tuneful tone as it gently resonated around a crowded and lively carriage, slowly lulling one of its occupants to sleep with its hypnotic and steady rhythm. This person of interest however had no interest in the boisterous conversations as she suppressed a yawn and leaned her head against the window, turning away from the noise and trying her hardest to stay awake as her eyes threatened droop shut.

Below an arching blue sky and wispy clouds, a cool breeze caressed her face as she lethargically gazed out the half-open window and into the lush countryside dales, her vision fixated on a beautiful swathe of rolling green that rose and fell like giant waves on a gentle ocean, a pleasant and almost intoxicating smell of petrichor enveloping her sense of smell and instilling her with evocations of summer days gone by.

The year had gone by quickly for Ariana, far too quick for her liking perhaps, as absurdly easy assignments, laughable tests, and elementary exams culminated rather anti-climatically towards the end of the semester. She was right of this moment aboard the Hogwarts Express, languidly relaxing to her heart's content.

Amongst these frivolities however, one wayward thought nipped at the corner of her mind. It was a recent memory of her dear friend Albus, one where his face carried a grim demeanour and an unsmiling countenance as he bent down to whisper something of paramount importance in her ear.

 _Ariana, do_ _ **not**_ _forget your mission._

A few more uninterrupted minutes of musing passed peacefully by before she was jolted out of her thoughts as a hand suddenly appeared and waved quite vigorously in front of her vacant face, causing her to snap back to the physical plane and turn to the person the offending article was attached to.

"A penny for your thoughts?" the individual inquired.

Ariana lifted her head lazily off the cool window and back leaned back into the cushioned seats as she crossed her arms behind her head. "Just thinking," she answered unhelpfully, disinclined to divulge any of her current thoughts as she wiggled her body to find a comfortable seating position.

Pandora gave a small pout – but was undeterred, "Permission to take a wild stab in the dark then?"

"Permission to stab wildly, granted," Ariana lazily replied with a rather regal flick of her hand.

"I bet you're thinking of what's the library like in Potter Manor."

Ariana's eyes widened dramatically and almost tumbled off her seat in surprise as she supressed a yelp, clearly not expecting the pinpoint accuracy of the answer. Realizing after few seconds that none of the other occupants in the compartment had drawn any attention to her odd outburst of movement, she straightened herself and turned back to her friend.

"How… how did you know where I was going?" she whispered urgently in an undertone.

The blonde young girl, one that had total amusement on her face from the miniature paroxysm, shrugged casually in response, "I know you too well, princess" Pandora smirked confidently.

Noticing that Ariana wasn't satisfied with her answer and was giving her a look that pleaded for the unabated truth, she first tried her hardest to resist the large imploring eyes, but soon failed miserably as she quickly caved in, the doe-like gaze starting to tug at her heartstrings.

Pandora internally rolled her eyes at her inability to deny this girl anything before clearing her throat dramatically, "As the scion of the rather distinguished Selwyn family, and one of the closest political allies to House Potter," she started in a faux haughty tone, "Our affairs are often interlinked."

"I may have overheard someone, who in turn may have overheard someone, that the Potters will be having two guests over for the summer break," she continued before reverting to her normal lilting voice, "It wasn't hard to guess that one of them was you."

Ariana chewed her lip as she fell back into thought.

 _I'll have to thank Albus again for making it possible for me to spend time with James and my grandparents whilst carrying out my task at the same time._

 _Perfect way to kill two birds with one stone I suppose._

"I guess that makes sens-," Ariana started to reply, only to cut herself off at the end when she realised something, "Wait… did you say, _two_ guests?"

Pandora raised an eyebrow, "Surely, James must have told you," she scoffed incredulously, "He's a Pure-blood, social etiquettes are second nature to him."

Ariana scrunched her up face as she her mind tried to churn out the memory she wanted, "He may have said something about that," she started slowly as something of relevance popped up in her head, "But… I think my mind was someplace else when he was explaining it to me."

Pandora sighed dramatically, "Dear, your mind is _always_ someplace else," she informed rather affectionately, "It's quite endearing, really. If you ever happen stay over at my place, I'm sure my parents will spoil you rotten."

Ariana narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she scrutinized the young girl next to her.

 _Pandora, are you really eleven years old? You sure don't speak and act like one._

 _Hmm, it must be due to the rigid and archaic way of Pure-blood upbringing…_

"So, why are you camping at out at the Potter's for the summer break anyway?" Pandora continued after a pause, not wanting a lull in the conversation, "I know you two get along swimmingly, but surely you must be feeling quite homesick by now."

Ariana's face lost some of its spark as she lowered her gaze toward the cabin floor, her face turning away slightly, "Godric's Hollow is my _real_ home," she whispered to herself.

"I don't have superhuman hearing you know," Pandora said dryly, hearing only a low mumble from her perspective.

Ariana quickly banished her negative thoughts out her mind before turning back, "Oh, I said I actually knew James and his family before coming to Hogwarts," she smoothly recovered, a radiant smile spreading across her face as her mind replayed the rather treasured memory of their felicitous meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I see, I see," Pandora nodded seriously, her face losing some of its light as she turned pensive.

"Is he your fiancé?" she blurted out unexpectedly, her voice now uncharacteristically devoid of levity or jest.

Ariana blanched, "No, no," she gasped weakly as she shook her head violently and waved her arms animatedly, shuddering at the thought, "Nothing like that."

"Is that so?" Pandora responded in a surprised tone, "That's a shame, you two would have made a rather entertaining pair," she sighed, almost sounding disappointed, "Who then _is_ your fiancé?"

"N-Nobody?"

"Nobody!? What on earth-"

Ariana sucked in her breath sharply as her mind filtered out the stream of words issued from the blonde-haired witch, thinking instead about a rather overlooked aspect that she had altogether unaddressed in her grand and intricate plan.

 _Ah – yes. I've forgotten that the old and decrepit Pure-bloods carry more… anachronistic values than the rest of the wizarding world._

 _If I recall correctly, it was only until the mid-eighties that Pure-blood women were granted the right of suffrage._

 _I can't believe it will take a decade from now for that to happen, and what's even more ridiculous, around_ _ **two**_ _decades for a legal ban on arranged marriages and neonatal magic-binding rituals._

Ariana's gritted her teeth in anger as she mentally planned of another political route in her bid to change the world for the better.

 _I'm definitely going to bring this to Albus' attention once I get back. It should be doable with his extensive legislative influence… I hope._

Her mind refocused and patiently waited her turn to speak, letting her friend ramble on as a far more important question weighed heavily in her mind. Noticing after a minute that Pandora had exhausted her current thoughts, she decided that now was the best time.

"Say, Pandora… since we're already on this topic," Ariana started carefully, "Who are _you_ betrothed to then?"

"No one yet," Pandora instantly replied with a toothy grin that showed the pearly whites of her teeth, as if waiting for the question, "I throw tantrums whenever my parents bring the topic up – fake, of course. They love me too much to enforce the Old ways upon me."

A large weight lifted off Ariana's heart as she slumped down on her seat from the response, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, "That's great," she murmured in relief, glad that at least one Pure-blood family was giving their daughters a little more freedom.

Pandora then donned a rather curious and infuriatingly familiar look on her face before speaking, one which regularly displayed itself recently to Ariana in the past few weeks, who in turn could not make neither head nor tail out it.

"In summary, I'm not marrying _anyone_ until I see a herd of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks roaming majestically across the African savannahs, and that's _that_."

Ariana raised an eyebrow at the familiar expression before an all-knowing smirk slowly started to blossom on her face, "You've been saying quite odd things recently," she almost sang, her eyes alight in total mischief, "Must be due to external influences, no?"

Pandora's face flushed as she realized what she had accidentally uttered, remembering that Ariana was an extremely intelligent and observant young girl.

"Xenophilius' theories are very fascinating to listen to, t-that's all," she replied in slightly flustered tone, her face tinging red slightly as she crossed her arms in a poor attempt to hide her embarrassment, acting her proper age for the first time that day.

"Don't be a spoilsport, fess up," Ariana teased as her eyes started to shine like beacons, eliciting an even more reddened countenance as the cornered girl finally acquiesced after a few more pleas and spluttered out the truth in disjointed sentences.

Ariana snickered unrepentantly and listened keenly to the unravelling story, curious to know the origins of how such polar opposites – Luna's parents – eventually got together.

The rest of the journey carried on with the same light atmosphere, all laughter and no gloom as the majestic train rumbled and roared away, ferrying its spirited passengers from a world of magical wonders to another, more different world of magical wonders, the very heart of London itself, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

* * *

A young girl stood quite alone on a sidewalk, looking forlornly to her left and right, holding herself in a manner that suggested she'd like to disappear altogether. An observer could tell she wasn't focusing, as eyes scanned aimlessly without locking onto any one thing, almost daydream-like. She shifted her weight from her left to her right and back again every few seconds, as if thinking of moving and yet choosing to remain still.

 _Where in Merlin's name is he?_

Ariana puffed up her cheeks in irritation, crossing her arms across her chest and watching families, friends and everything in-between slowly filter out of the emptying train station under the sweltering summer heat as the minutes ticked slowly by.

 _Must be nice to get picked up by your family_. She thought wistfully as she watched a young girl – a first-year by the look of it – run into the open arms of her parents immediately upon exiting the train. The sight in turn churned up unwanted memories of the past, causing a sour look to cross her face as she thought about the Dursleys for the first time in months.

 _I mean_ _ **real**_ _family._

A few more minutes of boredom passed before she spotted two figures energetically run towards her general direction out of the corner of her eyes. As they dodged and weaved in and out of moving people like dancing ribbons, she soon recognized the two panting teenage wizards as they drew nearer.

"Sorry for the holdup," James called out breathlessly as he and his companion slowed down to a brisk walk when they were within hearing distance, his loud voice easily carrying over the clanking and puffing of passing trains.

The very second his words hit Ariana's ears, all traces of annoyances abruptly vanished from her system as she waved back in a frantic greeting, "No worries," she yelled loudly, paying no heed to the attention she was getting from her passers-by with her raised voice, "I didn't wait long."

When they reached her, it finally dawned on her that standing right in front of her, was the second mysterious guest.

"Sirius, why aren't you going back to Grimmauld Place this summer?" she blurted out, foregoing even a greeting as she instantly spewed forth the question.

The heir of House Black laughed sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head, digesting the question and organizing his thoughts before replying, "I kind of got disowned while I was away at Hogwarts," Sirius revealed slowly after a pregnant pause, "Got burnt off the Family Tapestry and all that nonsense."

Despite announcing that his own family had cast him out, a strange and warm smile was gracing his lips as he thought about the freedom he now had. No more training, no more dark spells, and most importantly, no more Walburga Black screaming at him at every second hour of the day.

"The Potters have kindly lent me a roof over my head," he continued as he looked down towards Ariana, "Temporarily of course, until I can afford to live on my own."

James suddenly punched Sirius' arm with a bit more force that he intended as he interrupted him, "We never said such a thing," he barked angrily, causing Sirius to widen his eyes in shock.

"We said you can stay for _as long as you like_. You've known us and been to our place for over six years now, this means you're practically a Potter yourself."

Sirius sucked in his breath sharply and suddenly became lightheaded, almost swaying on the spot as he felt the keen embedding stings of his worries and pains wrench themselves out of skin, giving him the experience of relief for the first time in his life. Something warm then dug its way towards his heart as life's song, a swelling symphony of warmth that could bend any broken spirit, chorused loudly, instilling a faint light of peace, hope and acceptance within him.

"Damn it, Prongs," Sirius muttered quietly, turning his face away to hide various emotions that flashed across his face, "If you were a girl, you'd be covered in big sloppy kisses right now."

Quite curious, isn't it? How the power of words can bring such nourishment to the soul.

The mood then lightened as James leapt forward and slung a hand over Sirius' shoulder, spontaneously launching into a joke with a rather inappropriate punchline and causing the affected wizard to leave behind his vulnerable feelings and laugh uproariously alongside the hazel-eyes wizard.

Ariana stood as she was and did not join in the rambunctiousness, giving a soft smile as she watched her father adroitly interact with her godfather, wishing with all her heart that she could be one day be platonically loved as much as Sirius was.

 _James is something quite special, isn't he?_

She then narrowed her eyes as she overheard bits of their continued conversation, piecing together the puzzle as to why they looked so sweaty, eager and… mischievous.

"Excuse me gentlemen," she suddenly butted in, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at then sternly, "Did you, or did you not, just do something you that your mothers would be extremely ashamed of?"

James gave a loud groan at the miniature version of a rather familiar witch and he covered his face with his hands as he recognized that all-familiar glare, "There's no escaping her" he moaned dramatically, his alludes obvious enough to cause Ariana to break character and unconsciously curl the corner of her lips upwards.

Sirius perked up and offered his – what he thought were – helpful thoughts, "On the up side, they have to find out who did it first," he brightly cut in, all traces of the previous event absent as a large grin filled with optimism attached itself firmly onto his face.

Ariana shook her head wearily as she bent down to pick up her trunk off the warm, sun-kissed cobblestone, "Honestly, _Snuffles_ ," she said with an exasperated roll of her eyes at the handsome wizard, not even wanting to continue with the predictable conversation.

James then raised an eyebrow after a few seconds at an unusually placid Sirius, "What? No comeback? You realize she did just call you by _that_ nickname, right? You know, the one which you somehow dislike so much," he asked curiously.

"What can I say," Sirius replied blithely as he shrugged, "I think it's starting to grow on me."

James replied with a loud hum before wrapping up their conversation and leading his two companions out from the train station out into a waiting taxi, which in turn led them to an open field, which in turn led them down an earthen path, which in _turn,_ led them to a very innocuous bow-tie left discarded amongst the endless greenery.

Ariana blinked twice before narrowing her eyes at the object Sirius picked up off the muddy earth, its suspiciously pristine condition leaking tendrils of silver magic that emanated in soft undulations from the creases of the dappled fabric.

"Same place; same object," Sirius chanted as he felt the bow-tie up to his eye before whirling around to face James, "I've been wanting to ask this for a long time, but why does your dad always use bow-ties for Portkeys?"

James shrugged nonchalantly, " _Simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication_ ," he said airily in response, waving one hand in the air as he recited a quote his father would always say before tea.

Without much further rambling, the trio then clasped tightly onto the Portkey as James held a firm grasp on their belongings, making sure all the precautions to magical transportation were in order before he uttered the activation phrase.

After a short delay of hurtling through space and time, breaking what seemed like every primitive law of physics that the Muggles swear by, they appeared out of thin air onto what seemed like the grounds of an extremely wealthy mansion.

James and Sirius gracefully floated to the ground, their forms seasoned from years of travelling by Floo powder, Portkeys, other magical means from the moment they could walk and talk.

Ariana on the other hand was not so fortunate as she slammed face-first into the hard, sun-caked soil and let out a short cry of pain, "Why… why will I never get the hang of this," she growled under her breath in irritation as she struggled to stand up, spitting out blades of grass from her mouth.

While she was in the process of stumbling to her feet, her bones still slightly rattled from the sudden impact, a cool pair of hands suddenly slid themselves under her arms and planted her on her feet in one swift move, lifting her up as if her weight was lighter than a sack of feathers.

Ariana froze from the contact and slowly turning her vision upwards after she was firm on the ground to the person that helped her, only to meet metallic eyes that shone and sparkled strongly under the beams of the afternoon sun, the memorizing sight fitting the sharp angles of the teenager's face quite well.

 _Strong._ She thought in amazement as she gave a once over at the well-defined arms that supported her.

Ariana gave a soft smile as she detached from his grip and looked back up, "Thanks, Sirius," she said sweetly, her eyes showing nothing but love for a person she had come to fully accept as her surrogate father in her previous life.

Sirius gave a dry cough as he struggled to decipher the strange look the young girl was giving him, "Y-You're welcome?" he replied in visible uncertainty.

Ariana then did something completely unexpected. She reached out before she could stop herself and grabbed onto his sleeve with a small hand, tilting her face up and speaking with a melodic voice, starting a train of events that would ultimately shape the teenager in front of her through the passage of time – unbeknownst to her, of course.

"You know, I've been told I'm a good listener."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and cocked his head from the seemingly random statement.

"There is often a feeling of liberation when one shares their innermost thoughts with another," Ariana continued strongly, "Kindness or cruelty, altruism or avarice, virtuousness or depravity, there is no shame in admitting to them – for they are merely part of the human condition."

She took a deep breath before ending in a soft voice.

"If you ever want to talk, know that my doors will be always open for you."

Neither of the two noticed a pulse of white light that transferred from her steady hand into his stiff body as they conversed, its distinct flash akin to the one that she had unknowingly given Remus, many months ago.

Sirius blinked twice in confusion after a few seconds before loosening his body and giving a bark of laughter, "Kid, you say the strangest things sometimes, you know that?" he grinned, absently patting her on the head before grabbing his trunk and rushing off without a glance back to catch up with James, who had already starting to make for his house.

Ariana gave a small sigh as she watched the teenager run off, fully understanding the mind of the latest member of the Black family to be discarded like a piece of torn paper to the rushing winds, the previous one being his cousin, Andromeda.

The bitterness, the powerlessness, the _anger_ ; she saw it all, plain as day to her – although it was cleverly hidden to all others. The pretence of laughter, jokes, pranks and general mischief was merely a front to hide the emotional void that lingered within his desecrated soul, accrued from birth and proliferated by the vicious and unrelenting cruelty from the very the people that raised him.

This boy needed the guiding hand of love in the misbegotten life that fates that tasked him with, needed _her_ hand specifically. Sirius gave her life meaning in her previous world, so she had vowed that she would do the same for him here, one way or another.

In short, from the day Sirius Black was born to this very point in time, he had not experienced real love. Sure, he had gained the admiration and infatuation of his peers, and traipsed in teenage romance with almost every single girl in his year, but those were nothing but love of the flesh and mind were it not? What about love of the _spirit?_ A conveyance of expression that transcends, forgives and survives against any manner of evil in its path – the _love_ of love. Where one would unconditionally accept another despite innumerable flaws, constricting bonds of morality, or even the blank check of virtue.

People often pontificate that true love is based on self-sacrifice, but this could not be further from the truth. True love is a simply response to _values_. One falls in love with the embodiment of the values that forms a person's character, which in turn shapes the soul – an individual's style of a unique, tailored, and undifferentiable consciousness.

Why does this matter you may ask? Well, if a man does not value himself, he in turn cannot value _anything_ or _anyone_.

"ANA…. YOU COMING?"

Ariana jumped a little as she was dragged out of her thoughts, realizing soon after she had been standing still the entire time as her mind delved into areas of philosophy that had – and will – remain unanswered for the rest of eternity.

 _What in Merlin's name was I even thinking about?_

" _SORRY_ ," she yelled loudly in response after shaking her head to clear her thoughts, noticing that her companions were on the far end of the expansive and well-trimmed lawn, " _ON MY WAY!"_

She broke out into a jog as she quickly traversed across the grounds of Godric's Hollow, gasping in awe as she properly looked around for the first time since she arrived here, eyeing elegant sculptures that dotted the landscape, their forms set on pedestals and plinths amid the cascading water of numerous fountains, their backdrops framed by a multitude of perfectly manicured hedges that looked like different animals, each one unique and curiously designed.

By the time she had reached the rather welcoming mansion, its stony outer appearance all in shades of warm red and brown, she was gasping for dear life as she hunched forwards with her hands on her knees, greedily taking in large gulps of fresh cool air to catch her breath and calm down her beating heart.

 _Okay, maybe it wasn't Sirius that was strong._ She thought as she huffed and puffed, raising a slender arm in front of her and stared at it accusingly. _Maybe I need more meat on these bones._

After she had recovered and straightened herself, she realized that James and Sirius were patiently waiting for her on the veranda, silent in their countenance as they both were observing the scene with expressions of what could be discerned as abject amusement, borne solely from her adorable quirks and quiddities.

"That's right, laugh it up while you still can," she huffed in mock-annoyance, guilty enjoying James' and Sirius' company more than perhaps than anyone in her past, "We'll settle on the Quidditch field later."

She then padded over to her trunk – that was graciously carried by one of the two gentlemen – and lifted it up with ease, the result of a feather-light charm that activated to only her touch. Noticing that James flinched unnaturally hard when her trunk almost hit his leg, she furrowed her brow in confusion as she looked between her brown case and the said teenager who trying his hardest to look collected.

"James, is something wrong?" she asked in a worried voice, noticing that he was clasping his left forearm protectively.

Albus had never told Ariana the full story of what happened that night with Rowena's Diadem, only the abridged version he informed her that all her traps had been disarmed safely. This was one truth he could not burden young Ariana with: the fact that her original and ingenious trap had almost killed her very own father.

"Nothing," James said cheerfully as he dropped his hands and flashed a bright grin, too bright perhaps.

Just as Ariana was about to respond, a pair of double doors flung themselves open from the inside as a middle-aged couple walked out, refined and proper in their mannerisms – for they were the resident Lord and Lady.

"Darlings! You've arrived rather early," Dorea greeted in surprise, quickly collecting herself before rushing over and giving the trio a gentle and tender hug one at a time.

Upon reaching Ariana, she gave an extra-long and motherly hug, one which seemed to encompass the young witch's frame entirely. "Hello once again, dear," she started warmly after finally pulling away, brushing some loose strands of lustrous black hair out of her face, "Young James has been writing about you ever so much."

Ariana swivelled her head and gave a slightly reddening boy a suspicious look before turning back to the Potter matriarch.

"All good things I hope?"

"Let's just say… there was never a dull moment," Dorea mysteriously replied, playfully winking at the young girl.

She then stood back up and clapped her hands, garnering the attention of the group, "Let's save our catching up and pleasantries for lunch, it's just around the corner. Why don't you boys go on ahead while I tend to Miss Peverell."

James, Sirius and even Lord Potter gave loud chorusing whoops of joy at the sound of homemade food and bolted into the house, the former two speeding through the mansion and furiously unpacking their trunks at a speed that could only be matched by another, equally hungry teenager.

Ariana gave a nostalgic sigh and stood where she was, remembering the feeding frenzies – which she also partook in, to "fatten up" as Mrs Weasley would always say – that would occur in the Burrow during a Sunday roast.

" _Boys,_ " she and Dorea echoed at the same time as they both shook their heads in exasperation.

They both froze for a millisecond before catching each other's eyes and giving light chuckles, the hearts and minds aligning under the warm heat of the afternoon sun.

"Come on, dear," Dorea grinned as she gently took one of Ariana's hands in hers, "Let's get you settled in."

Ariana bounced on the balls of her heels in excitement before skipping alongside her young grandmother, humming merrily as she was led around a brief tour of the expansive mansion. She savoured every moment, never releasing her grip once as a surge of warmth flooded through her body, creating memories that she would never forget until her dying day.

 _Mum, Dad… if you're out there watching over me…._

… _I'm home._

* * *

A lone wizard crept through an old, decrepit house in the dead of the night, moving in absolute silence as the only sound to be heard were the faint susurrations of restless trees and gentle gurgling of running water, tempered into obedience by the still air. Rotting floorboards neither creaked nor groaned as the silhouette treaded over them, gracefully walking atop as if gliding over an invisible cushion of air.

Faint whispers of a forgotten shadow teased with his edges of the wizard's mind while he moved, the voices flirting with his desires as they threatened to pull him in and completely swallow him whole. The figure finally stopped moving once he reached his destination in the abandoned house and gazed down at an object that sat atop a wooden table, one which held something so priceless, men and beast alike would wage war and destruction for its possession if they ever knew of its existence.

Albus gave a shuddering breath – he was back again, drawn like a moth to flame.

There he was, three o'clock in the morning, skulking around in the depths of the Gaunt Shack, Little Hangleton. The very location where he had found one of Voldemort's Horcruxes in his quest to hunt them all down – a magical ring that had been left untouched under the floorboards for decades.

Certain plans regarding the Horcruxes had been accelerated as he and Ariana had agreed that it was time to systematically and safely destroy the ones they had knowledge of since it seemed Voldemort could not sense when one was obliterated – thanks to the lack of response when Rowena's Diadem was destroyed.

He had been endeavouring hard over the last month to dismantle the traps on the closed box that protected the ring, however, when he had finally triumphed over its defences, something within him shifted as when he felt a strong reluctance to swing the Sword of Gryffindor over its ugly head. This was all due to the otherworldly object that he sensed nestled within the ring's black pit, snug underneath a thin layer of rough obsidian.

Albus shivered and thanked Merlin and beyond that Voldemort had no knowledge of the ancient artifact and the dormant powers that lay within Marvolo Gaunt's Ring when it was passed down to him.

The distant voices then increased in volume in his mind, calling out to him and toying with emotions that he was sure were locked away deep within him, an amalgamation of shame, regret and guilt that rose to the surface and started to eat away at his thoughts, festering in unison and caressing his mind with their pernicious touch.

… _Albus Dumbledore… betrayer… of friends… and… families…_

Albus grit his teeth and attempted to blot out the voices in his mind as he slammed down a powerful Occlumency shield on the door of his mind, small droplets of sweat beading on his brow from the extensive effort he put in to silence the voices. It was all for naught however, as the unstoppable power of the Resurrection Stone licked eagerly at the torn corners of his mind. It had been slowly chipping away the edges of his defences with every passing night that Albus had visited it. Tonight, was its grand finale.

… _murdered your own… sister…_

" _Enough,_ " Albus furiously whispered, the mention of his slain sister causing images of another young witch to flash through his mind instead.

… _still is… a way… to save… her…_

"You're wrong, she… she lives," he continued desperately, an attempt to satiate the hungering thoughts that were circling his mind like ravenous vultures to rotting carrion, "And through my hand she will arise anew, cleansed of her sins though a baptism of fire."

… _you lie… to… yourself…_

… _that_ _ **creature**_ _is… not your… sister… and… never will be…_

The insidious words seemed so discordant against his train of thought that he dropped his guard and unconsciously weakened his mental shield as anger consumed him. This was the moment the Stone had been waiting for. It yearned to be used by someone who it deemed worthy enough to use it, craving for freedom after being trapped in the tiny box for countless decades.

It plunged its hooks deep into the wizard's now exposed mind, sinking under its layers and changing something within the arguably most powerful wizard alive, causing synapses and neurons to fire of rapidly in response as a nascent seed was planted in the fertile soil of his mindscape.

… _use… us… to bring her… back…_

"N-Never," Albus stammered, hesitation now clouding his voice, "I will not raise a walking corpse and face the wrath of nature for my unholy transgressions."

… _this is not… petty necromancy… this is…_ _ **authority**_ _over… mortality…_

"There is no merit to this madness," Albus cried out desperately, his voice now turning into a croak as he slowly felt himself slipping, "For every action, there is a consequence of equal measure."

The indefatigable voices then increased one final time in volume, almost deafening the wizard as it sank the last nail in the coffin, trapping a wizard with the promise of power untold like any other.

… _ashes… to ashes… dust to… dust…_

… _human life... giveth… and… taketh…_

… _all bent at… your… will…_

Albus grew silent, every muscle and fibre in his body tensed and frozen like an animal caught in a cage, eyes, fingers, toes and everything in-between were locked solid in place as the old wizard's brain thundering away at a speed that only a handful of people in the world could match.

"A way..." Albus finally whispered, breaking the silence as a strange glint appeared in his eyes, "A way… to fix the mistakes, fix the past, fix _everything_."

"Why should I be denied this power?" he breathed as his voice grew louder, the Elder Wand in his robes starting to vibrate as it sensed its master's anticipation, its magic going haywire from the proximity of the second Deathly Hallow, one which it had not seen since its conception.

"All my life, I have been searching for penitence, for forgiveness… for redemption. And for _what_?" he snarled.

"To enthrone my heart with cries of the souls that wander through Tartarus? To anoint my head with the blood of the innocent and guilty alike? To meditate in tranquillity upon the mountain of corpses that I am solely responsible for?"

"No, I am beyond saving," he continued, shuddering with an unidentifiable emotion, "The endless lies and sins that sits atop my breast will not move for neither man _nor_ god."

"This… is my burden."

With that, he then raised a shaky arm raised towards the bare ring that stood on a wooden table, the action causing a tingling sensation to erupt and spread through his body, an intoxicating wave of desire that pulled his outstretched hand closer and closer with every beat of his aged heart.

He was just an inch away from the ring before the last defences his mind sprung up in a futile attempt to stymie the influence of the overwhelming presence.

"W-Wait," he slurred as his hand froze mid-air, just an inch away from his prize, his tongue feeling like lead as he struggled to even talk, "Something is not r-right."

No matter how hard he tried, his mind failed to cooperate, its hazy thoughts pulling in opposite directions as if the narrator and navigator within had bifurcated and split into two separate entities, each walking independently on its own path.

Feeling as though he was slowly being walled in with amber, sticky and viscous in consistency, his vision started to blacken at its edges, his breathing in turn growing more laboured as his thought processes systemically shut themselves down one by one – until there was only one left.

With no other desire left in his body apart from that one singularity, finally succumbing to dark calls of the Stone, he then repeated an action his future self was fated to do, nineteen long years from now.

He grabbed the ring.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **A/N:** A very special shout-out to **deitarionSSokolow** for the wonderful pieces of advice and criticisms I have received on my writing.

P.S. This is to any writers out there which are reading this: my writing speed has slowed down _significantly_ and I have no clue why (I always know what I'm going to write next, but for some reason it's just as if my fingers are now covered in sticky honey). Any tips or pieces of advice on that particular issue is very much welcome!

That all being said, I hope you enjoy what's to come!

* * *

 **Chapter 24**

"I could literally spend my _entire_ life here," a young girl loudly announced to no one in particular, absolute in her assertion as she finished reading through her fifth book of the day, its gilded cover housing fragile old pages that threatened to crumble like delicate snowflakes under the touch of her hand.

The Potter Library was indeed as magnificent as young Ariana had imagined so many times, its Victorian-esque appearance – far from austere Georgian and homespun Edwardian vogues – was almost a microcosm of its time.

Orderliness and ornamentation were the hallmarks that defined this grand room. Intricately carved mahogany, pine and oak were the foundations that the books themselves sat on, thousands upon thousands stacked neatly in rows, all orderly arranged and aligned back-to-back where the insides could not be judged by their covers.

The brightly lit room lay in constant illumination from a multitude of ever-burning candles that waltzed lazily in the air, their gentle but firm glow ensuring that diseases like mildew and its ilk would not cast their afflictions upon the seemingly countless works of research and literature.

Ariana eagerly grabbed another dust-lined book from a stacked pile beside her and pushed the previous one aside, its knowledge already safely stored in her brain as she easily conquered a master-level journal that attempted to describe how the protean nature of magic broke down one of the four fundamental forces in nature – electricity.

This phenomenon is perhaps the main reason why the wizarding world would be forever trapped in the Dark Ages, a world before the great minds such as Michael Faraday and James Clerk Maxwell would come along and forever define electromagnetism – to create the entire basis for the modern world which Muggles now live in.

It seemed almost unbelievable to Ariana that this very room housed the product of a lifetime of research and ground-breaking discoveries across hundreds of cultures and generations, accrued from thousands of years of ideas that all started in the mind's eye and finished lovingly on a piece of paper.

As the smell of old parchment filled her sense of smell, a musty essence that breathed forth a near palpable effusion of diligence, wisdom and creativity, she gave a quiet laugh.

 _Why am I getting so emotional over books?_

Shaking her head in bemusement, she flipped open the next waiting book and was not at all phased in the slightest when she was greeted a large garbled text that vaguely resembled ancient Sanskrit, a lingua franca that once spanned across the entirety of ancient Asia. Tapping the inside of the tome lightly with her wand, the letters slowly rearranged themselves before her eyes into someone something more readable.

"I guess it wants me to read it in Latin," she murmured after realizing the words refused to translate after a certain point, glad that she was a half-accomplished polyglot.

"Let's see… in English, the title _Flammis Acribus Addictis_ would roughly translate to… _Consigned to the Flames of Woe."_

She paused before the side of her lips quirked upwards in amusement from the peculiar title, "Not ominous at all," she murmured sarcastically as she skipped ahead to read the first chapter.

 _Dear friend or foe, if you are reading this, it means that I am dead, and in due time – you shall be as well._

"A cursed book?" Ariana gasped in slight panic as she pushed the tome back hurriedly and gave it a critical look with her unique eyes. After seeing no strands of dark magic or sorcery discharge from fibres after a pregnant second, she leaned forward hesitantly to continue reading, her burning curiosities only heightened from the dramatic start.

 _Before you obliterate this journal in an irrational fear of the unknown, I was merely referring to the natural expiry of your lifeforce, nary the curses that often befoul books of antiquity._

"You could have mentioned that beforehand," Ariana huffed in annoyance as she settled back down comfortably into her chair.

 _With that premise, I shall now pose a succinct question that would turn many an erudite away in disinterest after its utterance._

 _ **Do you believe in Fate?**_

The young girl reading the book threw her head back and laughed loudly – a pleasant sound that covered a spectrum of emotions – before calming herself down and turning back to the book, her attention now doubled.

 _If you have made it this far, it means you are a Thinker, a person capable of widening the door of their mind to pursue a branch of thought that seeks to transcend and explore the physical limits of mankind. Where a person sees boundaries, you instead see opportunities; where a person sees probabilities, you instead see_ _ **possibilities.**_

 _Since the dawn of proper Thinking, ancient philosophers have long posited the existence of a Fire in the world beyond, once which never dies, forever burning. Resting in a place where waters howl and hiss, boiling in endless wrath as screams of restless ecstasy and sonnets of unending agony echo in the lowest depths of its abode._

 _If so, is it possible for us mortals to reach its bowels and return whole, with our skin of our back intact, and the bone of our teeth attached?_

 _In the beginning, I stated that I was dead. In absolute truth, that may not be the case, as I, Herpo the Foul, will soon take my own life in a dangerous experiment that would gamble upon the very whims of Fate itself. This journal describes my voyage into the unknown, my endeavours to create an object – the first of its kind perhaps – to shake the very foundations of this world._

 _This entity, I will christen a_ _ **Horcrux.**_

Ariana's eyes widened comically, staring at the open book as if it had suddenly produced a Hippogriff from its page, her eyes and mouth frozen wide open in an expression of extreme shock.

"… _what_?" she finally gasped, her eyes refusing to tear themselves away from the pages as she continued reading against her will.

 _Orators of high standing from all over the world often purport that Man is born equal – a fallacious and poisonous adage birthed from the womb of Man's hubris._ _In truth, we are all only equal in death._

 _Relinquishing ourselves from this mortal coil are of importance to none other than ourselves. The black plumes will be stripped off our hearses; tears will dry; hurt hearts will close again; our graves will grow level with the church-yard, and although we are away, the world wags on. It does not miss us; and those who are near us, when the first strangeness of vacancy wears off, will not miss us much either. For when the black cygnet tolls the bell for the last time and chants its doleful hymn, guiding your soul and body to an everlasting rest, only then, is Man equal._

 _Yet, in the face of all these dogmatic claims the world has coughed up and spat at me, I choose to_ _ **defy**_ _them_ _ **.**_

 _My candle burns at both ends into the night as I write this journal, for my quest for immortality begins at the crack of dawn; the cry of a rooster my herald; the morning sun my coat-of-arms._

 _Now, before we formally begin, I shall unbosom a spell that is often used as a precursor to the majority of my rituals – the Blood-Draining Curse. I shall use a live example as to demonstrate its effects as of this writing for additional clarity. Now, follow my instructions carefully step-by-step._

 _First, take a healthy three-year-old by the ankle and…_

* * *

James stomped purposefully up a flight of grandiose marble steps, ascending story after story towards a certain location in his mansion, a place where one of his guests had been holed up and tucked away for the past few days without care or concern for anything else.

Enough was enough, it was time for a much-needed change.

"Miss Peverell, could you kindly save all this madness for when we get back to school," he called out loudly after flinging open the doors to the esteemed Potter Library, making sure his voice reached the far corners of the long room, "It's about time you got some fresh air."

The said girl was quietly occupying a rather sturdy-looking table as columns of books upon books surrounded her seated figure, almost blocking her from his view. She did not even register the presence of another person as she, unbeknownst to him, was morbidly ensorcelled by a grisly odyssey of flesh and bone, told fastidiously through the humble usage of parchment and ink.

James shook his head in exasperation when he noticed that his young charge – still lost in her own world – did not react from his voice. Marching over, his footsteps echoing louder with each passing step, only then caused Ariana to look up from the approaching sequence of sounds.

With a panicked squeak, she quickly closed the book in front of her with a loud thud and shoved it under a pile of worn parchment that that lay next to her in what seemed like extreme agitation before he could get a chance to get a good look at what she was reading.

An all-knowing smirk grew on James' face from the suspicious action, the scene all-too familiar to him. In a dorm with such a large number of adolescent and maturing teenage boys, it was only a matter of time before one stumbled across their schoolmate in the middle of _it_.

"Well, well, well, which one was it? Witches Weekly Extreme Edition – Volume 8?" James teased when he finally within talking distance.

A wistful smile took over his face as his voice then filled with shameless nostalgia, "You know, I used to have to have the entire collection until Remus-"

His eyes suddenly widened as he clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence, remembering just who he was talking to. He felt his face heat up in embracement as he gave an awkward cough, mortified at what he had just uttered without thinking.

Daring to look at her, he was all but greeted with a blank look that held large, questioning eyes. He gave a large sigh of internal relief as he mistook her disorientation for innocence, and thanked Merlin that he had saved himself from explaining a particularly sensitive topic, one especially for a growing girl.

"A-As I was saying, today's weather perfect for Quidditch," he recovered smoothly, acting as if his previous event never happened, "Sirius is all geared up and ready to go… you in?"

Now, _this_ got a response. The light that made their way into Ariana's green eyes could only be described as longing, an unfulfillable longing that presented themselves to him with two glowing irises, a captivating sight from which he struggled to tear his vision away from.

Without her even replying, he knew she was game. With a beckoning toss of his head, he wrenched his eyes away from hers and whirled on the spot, making for the door, "Let's get changed first," he called over his shoulder, "I still have my old sports outfit for you if you need one. It can magically shrink to your size so don't fret about fitting issues."

The muffled pitter-patter of socked feet quickly caught up with a languid gait that was purposefully slowed so she could catch up. Noticing that she was still acting oddly – well, odder than usual – from the erratic movements and nervous side-glances, he gave an educated guess as to what she was still thinking about.

"Your books won't go anywhere," he pointed out reassuringly as they walked down the stairs, "You have my word on it."

That seemed to do the trick, as Ariana's tensed body unconsciously relaxed from the sound of his mellow voice. She still remained silent however, only until they reached within a few feet of Sirius' guest room.

"How many Snitches do you have?" she asked out of the blue as she looked up at him, all traces of her previous mood absent.

"A rather healthy amount," James replied after a short pause before he gave a suspicious look, "Why, what gives?"

"Just bring as many as you to the pitch, I've got something special in mind."

They then barged into the room and was promptly greeted with a rather spirited Sirius – donned with a rather bizarre red and gold tartan outfit – that jumped from up from a bed that he was previously lounging in.

"Hey folks, I just realized the Quidditch World Cup is just around the corner, any bets on who will win this year?" he started excitedly, giving James a subtle and approving nod for being able to finally drag their third member out of her hidey-hole.

"Puddlemere United, without a shadow of a doubt," James instantly replied, radiating confidence, "Their new chasers will certainly make clean sweeps of the rest of the teams," he paused before a cheeky smile sprouted on his face, "If you pardon the pun."

Sirius gave a pained groan, "Seriously, Prongs? This is the fifth time this month you've referenced the new broomsticks that they'll be using."

"The Kenmare Kestrels," a voice suddenly blurted out, interrupting the chattering duo, "They'll win against Puddlemere United one-hundred-and-sixty to ninety in the Grand Finals."

Sirius turned towards the source of the voice, "I can't believe you're supporting the Kestrels," he spluttered incredulously, "Kid, they haven't won a single tournament in _five_ whole seasons."

"Yes, well…"

James broke away from the conversation and narrowed his eyes at the chattering young girl, opting to stay silent while quietly scrutinizing her as she argued with Sirius over which team would win.

 _There it is again._ He thought, mentally filling away this moment in his mind.

Biding his time, he waited patiently for a lull in the conversation. Noticing an opportunity soon arise, he immediately decided on his course of action.

 _It's now or never._

"Ariana," he started softly to attract her attention, "When you said the _Kestrels will win_ , everything about your manner stated it as if it were an absolute fact… not just mere speculation."

Ariana froze for a millisecond before laughing lightly, "Don't be silly, James. It's not like someone could see the future, right?"

"Seers can," James replied slowly, deeply enunciating the two words.

Ariana put her hands on her hips, tilting her head sideways as she struck a pose, "Do I look like a Seer to you?" she asked seriously, the action causing a swath of silky black on hair to fall to her side, its soft lustre tempting James to reach out with one hand and run his fingers through it.

Ever since they had met, James had always this nagging feeling that something wasn't quite _right._ So many things regarding her simply did not add up in his highly perceptive mind. The way she spoke; the way she looked at people, at things; the way she would often stare blissfully out the window as if to escape this world and reside in another, were only a few items on the list that were driving him crazy. She truly was a riddle wrapped in a mystery wrapped inside an enigma.

He exhaled softly as he ran a hand over his face.

 _Why does this even matter?_

"Nope, you definitely don't look like a Seer," he finally replied to the waiting girl, a half-smile lifting up the right side of his face.

He all of a sudden remembered the original reason why he had come to this room and pivoted on the spot, marching over purposefully towards a dusk-blue wardrobe, flinging open its doors to reveal its sartorial contents. After much rummaging, he finally pulled out a large jumbled of pile of fabric and turned back to the young witch.

"Here, catch."

Ariana's arms flailed wildly as a large bundled object was lobbed in her general direction. Upon catching it, she calmed down immediately however, as she soon realized that the material was extremely soft against her palms. Her face then morphed into a look of satisfaction when the fabric started shrinking down to nearly half its size, the magic interlaced within the threads activating the moment it contacted with her bare skin.

She shook the gear vigorously to smoothen out the obvious wrinkles before looking up in slight confusion at the two teenage boys with a question at the tip of her tongue.

"Do we really need to wear protective gear?" she asked quizzically, not recalling a single time when she needed to don special attires while she was riding on broomsticks at the Burrow, "Why can't we play Quidditch in our normal clothes?"

James and Sirius looked at each other for a split second before a matching pair of mad grins stretched across their faces, their arms slinging themselves of each other's shoulders as they turned back to her.

"Oh, trust us… you'll need it," they both chorused mysteriously in unison, causing Ariana to suppress a giggle at the bizarre display.

James then detached from Sirius and gave an authoritative thump of his fist onto a nearby desk, "Enough talking folks, let's get changed and get this party started," he exclaimed excitedly, eager to test out some new aerial manoeuvres he had stumbled across in a recent magazine to explode in popularity, _Quidditch Quarterly_.

All seemed normal when he bent down and tugged out his own set of Quidditch gear from underneath Sirius' bed before starting to pull his loose grey shirt over his head in the act of changing. Halfway in the motions, he suddenly heard Sirius give a loud yelp of panic through the translucency of his shirt, causing his heart to speed up as he struggled to get yank the ever-constricting fabric past his neck.

"What's wrong?" he cried out with a muffled voice, a strange of sense overprotectiveness rearing up within him.

When he finally got the offending article through his head and off his body, he then saw what had startled Sirius so much.

He gave a weary sigh, feeling some energy drain away from his muscles as he gazed upon a scene that associated itself with him far too often that he had liked.

There she was again, caught like a deer in the headlights.

"Blimey, Ariana… what is it you think you are doing?" Sirius spluttered, quickly turning his startled face away from her.

Ariana blinked a couple of times owlishly, stunned from the loud outburst, "Err… changing?" she answered in confusion, her shirt already off and hung over a chair.

James pinched the top of his brow ridge and squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation, "Ana, please _think_ , what have I told you time and time again about this sort of thing?" he intoned.

Ariana only looked more bewildered as her eyebrows knitted together, "But it's only you guys. What's wrong?"

"Ariana, listen," Sirius started, "I don't know exactly what you mean by that, but girls and boys have bodies that are quite… different when growing up," he continued, his face starting to redden in embarrassment as his tongue refused to say more.

"Of course, I know that," Ariana replied slowly, looking at Sirius as if his head had just sprouted feathers, "B-but it's just _you guys._ "

Something then dawned in Ariana's eyes as she suddenly raised her hands in a placating manner, "Oh – yeah, fine… I understand. I'll get dressed in the other room."

"So, I don't want to change with girls… _and_ I can't change with guys," she grumbled to herself, not realizing that she was still within hearing distance.

James heard her give a large sigh as she picked up her apparel and made for the door, faintly uttering one final line before she slipped completely through the doorway.

" _Where do I belong then?_ "

Sirius leaned over to James after she was gone and started talking in a low tone.

"Prongs, mate. She needs to be sorted out before we get back to Hogwarts," he murmured, "Imagine what the lads in second-year will do try to do with a lamb like that."

"Over my bloody corpse they'll try anything," James growled.

Sirius was about to make a sarcastic quip but stopped halfway as he realized he strangely felt the same way as well, "How very curious," he muttered under his breath, wondering just what was it that drew him to protect this girl so much.

James' eyes then lit up from an epiphany and he whirled to face his close friend, "I know – I'll ask Mum for help," he announced confidently, realizing that there could be no one more perfect for the job.

Sirius clapped a hand on his friend's back approvingly, glad that the burden would be shifted to a more apposite individual for the task.

"Brilliant as always Prongs, absolutely brilliant."

* * *

"…you're telling me my boy hasn't won a _single_ round of Quidditch today?"

Dorea gave an unfeminine snort of laughter despite a stream of protests as a bright-eyed young girl finished regaling her a rather entertaining string of escapades, ones which had recently occurred over the past couple of hours.

"Mum, what the heck," James whined loudly, "You're supposed to be on my side."

A wood-fire blazed cheerily in an ample fireplace, its glowing, bright golden flame sending its warmth and light far out into the room while a red base shimmered across the wood like a dawn upon a summer morning. The hearth certainly looked inviting, its recess housing a dancing fire that licked and spit at the curved ceiling of its stony confinements and burning logs that slowly cemented their residue into the crevices of auburn bricks.

The musical accompaniment of glasses clinking, cutleries grinding, mirthful tittering, relaxed sighs, and occasional rumbles of satisfaction, all harmoniously blended together to signify the occurrence of a rather cosy dinner in heart of Godric's Hollow.

"…and how many times was it again that you snatched the snitch right from his face, dear?"

"Eight times in a row," Ariana proudly announced as she grinned unapologetically at the said teenager, glad that her skill of riding a broomstick had not dulled much from lack of practice.

James gave a pout as he put down his fork and crossed his arms, "It was still two-versus-one," he sulkily muttered in a show of mock offense, opting not to reveal the fact that he had subtly downplayed his abilities.

Sirius reached forward gave him a pitying pat on his shoulder, "It's alright mate, not all of us can be winners," his voice full of dramatic sympathy, eliciting a roar of laughter from Charlus.

The conversation naturally carried itself on before the it settled back down into quiescence, leaving only the basal enjoyment of warm, homemade food that took the form of shepherd's pie. Lady Potter, despite being born with a silver spoon in her mouth from the Black household, was a rather accomplished chef when she wanted to be.

As dinner was on the verge of ending, Dorea suddenly turned towards her son as something leapt to the top of her mind.

"James, before you forget, your birthday celebration will span for a duration of two days in our Summer Mansion," she reminded firmly, "Starting a week from now."

The addressed teenager gave a loud gasp as he put his hands on the sides of his head, "I had completely forgotten about that," he moaned loudly in realization, already shifting plans around in his head for the summer holidays.

Charlus raised a bushy eyebrow, "Son, did you just invite Mr Black and Miss Peverell here without informing them of the special occasion?"

James adopted a guilty look, "Possibly… maybe… perhaps? I mean, there's no real need for this big event is there?" he said desperately, "Aren't I too old for birthday parties?"

"The invitations have gone out," Dorea instantly replied, carrying a firm tone that booked no rebuttals, "You're turning eighteen. We still follow the Old Pure-blood customs."

James lowered his eyes as he realized that this argument against his mother was unwinnable, her rigid views of Pure-blood social gatherings – ingrained from her upbringing in the Black family – were overriding her every other thought.

"Yes, Mother," he acquiesced with a defeated sigh.

Ariana suddenly felt a chill run down her spine after James had finished talking. She shuffled nervously and looked around for the source of her discomfort. She then felt a gaze settle upon her, unnerving her, as she had sometimes sensed it a couple of times directed towards her, the one most prominent memory was when Madam Malkin laid eyes upon her the first time she entered her clothing shop.

It was from Lady Potter.

"Sweetheart," Dorea started with an innocent smile, looking straight at her, "Do you have your formal garments with you _?_ "

"Formal… garments?"

"Yes, you know – your dresses, gowns and other sundries."

" _Dresses_?" Ariana squeaked in a high-pitched voice.

She was right of this moment clad in a simple combination of a pair of jeans and shirt. It was all she wore really. Apart from the time when she had just arrived and had absolutely no choice in wearing one of the spare sundresses that were lying around in one of Madam Pomfrey's cupboards, she felt absolutely unwilling otherwise getting into one again. The Hogwarts's girl uniform barely counted, as its snug and modest outfit showed nothing and felt strikingly similar to the boy's one.

"Sorry, I don't have any dresses or gowns," she confessed, nervous as to where this conversation would take her.

Dorea's eyebrows furrowed as she squinted her eyes to inspect the girl beside her, "What about your basic accessories?"

Ariana shuffled nervously, "Err… basic accessories?"

"Yeah, make-up, earrings, and so forth."

"S-Sorry," Ariana hesitatingly repeated after a slight pause, "I don't have any of those as well."

Dorea Potter née Black, a highly gregarious woman by nature, raised upon the pillars of social interactions and an ever-shifting public image, was flabbergasted. She quickly collected herself however, wondering if the young witch opposite her had lost her possessions somehow or was suffering through a financial crisis.

"Don't fret, dear," she reassured kindly, "I have many spare attires and kits that I'm sure would be to your liking to use for James' party."

Ariana widened her eyes slightly as the realized what her grandmother's intention was.

 _No. Way._ _I am_ _ **not**_ _getting into a dress again._

"Thank you for your kindness," she replied with as much courtesy as she could muster, a polite smile gracing her face, "But I wouldn't want to impose."

Charlus waved a dismissive hand in the air, "Nonsense, Miss Peverell," he boomed with authority, his moustache wobbling as he spoke, "You are welcome to wear any apparel in this household you deem acceptable."

Ariana squirmed on the inside but kept a straight face, knowing that there was no way out of this one from the strangely eager looks on everyone's faces, "With my magic as a witness, your goodwill will not be forgotten," she said with a bowed head, remembering an old Pure-blood custom she had once read about in a rather dusty-looking book.

Charlus' voice took on a more mellow tone, "Come now, there's no need to be so formal Miss Peverell, we are _family_ after all."

Ariana's blood froze in her veins as she jerked her head up, a small bubble of fear coursing through her veins as her heart began to start hammering. Her emotions did not show on her facial muscles or skin as her hands clasped themselves tightly together underneath the table before forcing herself to speak.

"F-Family?" she managed to choke out.

Charlus gave a nod, "Extremely loosely, of course. Your ancestor, Iolanthe Peverell, married into the Potter bloodline many of centuries ago," he grinned cheekily, his words causing the young witch to instantly breathe an internal sigh of relief from the misinterpretation.

"If you want to go back that far," Sirius energetically cut in, "Aren't the vast majority of Pure-bloods related then?"

"Well, yes," Charlus coughed, his face colouring slightly, "There is certainly quite a lot of… _selective breeding_ when it comes to maintaining the pedigree of patricians in the wizarding community."

Sirius' scrunched up his face as if he had bitten straight into a sour lemon, "I had almost forgotten about the inbreeding," he grunted before giving dramatic shudder, "Thank Merlin that I'm no longer part of the Black family. Almost everyone I knew were somehow related – although cousin Bellatrix was lucky enough to get married outside of the family to a Lestrange."

Dorea mimicked the same action that Sirius had just displayed in response, her distorted visage marring her beautiful features, " _Bellatrix_ ," she grimaced, spitting that word out as if ash was coating her tongue, "That hellhound is still alive and kicking then?"

Sirius rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a few seconds, "I'm not too sure," he said slowly after the slight pause, "I've heard next to nothing about her in the past year."

Ariana visibly blanched and immediately turned her vision downward, causing silky black hair to tumble down and hide her face from view. Her eyes then glazed over as she tried her hardest to push back unwanted memories that threatened to rise to the surface of her mind from the utterance of the eldest of the Black sisters.

A healthy minute passed before a voice called out to her, interrupting her internal struggle as well as causing her to jump slightly.

"Pardon me for asking young lady, but how old did you say you were again?"

Ariana lifted her head and looked blankly at the speaker, temporarily not recognizing the one addressing her as her mind hastily struggled to push all her negative thoughts to one side.

"I'm…" Ariana started to say, but snapped her mouth mid-sentence as she realized something.

 _Does my old date of birth apply to my female self? When even is my birthday? Was it when I was conceived right after hurtling through space and time and shoehorned into this unfamiliar body? Or am I…_

"…twelve?" she finished faintly, her lilting voice morphing into more of a questioning tone as the word rolled across her tongue.

Sirius was the first to respond to the odd reply. "Don't worry kid," he grinned confidently as he gave her two thumbs up, "Peter also struggled with remembering the calendar right up to his second-year – before Remus couldn't take it any longer of course, and thoroughly pounded it into his head one fine afternoon."

Dorea shook her head in exasperation as she marvelled as Sirius' ability to be ever so encouraging yet discouraging at the same time. She then decided to take over the reins as she turned towards a young girl that had a highly bemused expression glued to her face.

"Dear, when's your birthday?"

There was a pause.

"I… I'm not sure."

Dorea gave a quiet hum, wondering what in Merlin's name was meant by that before trying anther route, "How did you celebrate your birthdays at home?" she followed up with a motherly tone, "Surely, you had cakes, decorations and presents."

Ariana clenched her teeth in anger as sudden and unwanted images of the Dursleys perfused and clouded her senses. Her very first instinct was to flat out lie to the concerned face that was talking to her. However, even though she was struggling with all her might, she simply couldn't bring herself to lie to the precious people sitting around her.

"There were never any celebrations," she said in a small voice, her shoulders now slumped and her eyes now downcast.

"Goodness me, no celebrations?" Dorea replied in astonishment, drawing back with slight surprise. A confident look then took over her face, "Ah – your family must have been following the Hellenistic Pure-blood way to celebrate events then," she continued, "It's a rather outdated practice I'll admit, but I know of some ancient families which still abide by it."

The light in Ariana's green orbs slowly faded out of existence, leaving behind a blank gaze that held large glassy eyes which swam in their sockets, the spark of life, extinguished. If one could peer deep enough into her irises, a multitude of miserable memories could be seen flashing past those eyes in an instant.

"There were never any celebrations," she repeated in a dead voice.

Dorea opened her mouth to reply but snapped her mouth shut at the last second, her pupils dilating and her throat seizing up and she finally realized what the expressionless young witch was trying to tell her.

"Oh, _sweetheart_ ," she cried out loudly as she got up from her seat and rushed over to the other side of the table to give the limp witch a tight hug.

James sat in silence, witnessing the scene as he leaned over to his father discreetly, "Mum _never_ acts like this," he whispered in slight confusion, not fully understanding what was happening, "What's up with her recently?"

"Well…" Charlus whispered back hesitantly, as if reluctant to finish his sentence, "Your mother had always fond of the idea of having a daughter…"

"Blimey Dad," James gasped softly in a faux hurt tone, dramatically putting one hand on his heart, "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

Charlus gave a low chuckle at the antics of his only and irreplaceable son before his voice lost all traces of humour, "All we can do now is offer our support in the tragic case that is Miss Peverell," he murmured, "She gazes fearlessly into the abyss, but knows not of the horrors which lie beyond. Her pure heart is the only thing which sustains her, a single light… shining alone in the darkness."

"Verbatim from your eccentric Headmaster, of course," he added, seeing his son's face twist with bewilderment at the odd choice of words.

Their low conversation was then interrupted down the line as Lady Potter cleared her throat loudly to garner the attention of the room, "Excuse us gentlemen, but Miss Peverell wishes to retire to her room," she announced, her hands lightly resting on the shoulders of the said girl, "I trust that you boys can clear up after yourselves whilst I escort her to her room."

A wave of earnest nods that circulated around the table lifted her heart as she then gently steered the adolescent witch off her chair and out of the dining room, closing the door behind her after exiting.

Sirius was the first one to speak up.

"From the bits and bobs of what I overheard, it sounds like she had a particularly rough upbringing," he revealed, a worried look then crossing his face, "But why the heir of such an ancient family be treated like that?"

"I suppose that would explain why her behaviour is often so… unique," James put forward, carrying a voice that was not unkindly.

Charlus gave a fully-body stretch as he got up from his chair, patting his belly contentedly after, "As I said before, it is our unspoken duty to shield her – and others like her – as much as we can from the coming storm."

Sirius froze for a millisecond before a lifeless smile forced itself on his face, "What do you mean by that?"

"You know _exactly_ what I mean, Mr Black," Charlus replied gravelly, staring straight at into the steely eyes of the young lad.

Sirius turned his head away to hide a angry look that flickered briefly across his face, "I'm a Black no longer, Mr Potter," he mumbled softly, "You know that."

"Not officially," Charlus boomed, the sudden increase in volume causing the other two wizards to jump slightly, "House Black would not dare sully their reputation and lose whatever political power they hold in such trying times by publicly denouncing its heir."

The respective teenager gave a scoff as he leaned heavily on the back of his chair, "Reputation and power," he sneered derisively as he looked upwards, "That's the only thing those wankers care about."

He then sat forward and clasps his hands on the table as he brought back the previous topic, "As to your assumption Mr Potter, the answer is… yes. I _do_ know who the mastermind behind all these attacks, I _do_ know exactly who his followers are, and I _do_ know his name…"

He unconsciously shuddered, goosebumps erupting all over his body as he recalled the rare times the monster himself had visited his house.

"…the Dark Lord, _Voldemort."_

* * *

A handsome young wizard whipped fiercely his head to his right as he heard his name being faintly called, his eyes narrowing to slits as his dark irises scanned the murky recesses in the dimly lit chamber.

"My Lord?" came a soft call from his side.

He temporarily ignored the speaker as his eyes favoured to continuously skirt across the room, in search for what caught his attention. His dark orbs flickered past wall-mounted looking glasses that were encircled by frames of threadlike silver, interlaced together in a mock-liana arrangement; mirrors, that seemingly stretched upwards for meters on end; and reflective surfaces, which showed only fractal snapshots of the disorientating surroundings.

"Antonin, leave me," Voldemort finally commanded as he turned back to the only other person in the room, his instincts screaming at him that something was amiss, "We will finish this discussion later tonight."

"As you wish, my Lord," came the reply, nothing but undiluted reverence in its tone as its owner collected up numerous pieces of parchment that were lined up perfectly beside each other on the wooden table before them, its visuals akin to a row of ripe corn in the zenith of a summer's harvest.

Exactly thirteen seconds passed by in Voldemort's mind before his loyal follower left the room and left him alone with his growing suspicions in this strange room, one of the many mysteries left untold in the history of Malfoy Manor.

Cold, damp air wrapped around Voldemort like a heavy coat of chain mail as he stood up and walked aimlessly amongst the sea of mirrors that were housed within the large chamber, his steady footsteps kicking up clouds of dust that had been undisturbed for decades. In the absence of flaming torches, the dimness gave the impression of twilight despite the heat and brilliance of the late afternoon sun.

"You can come out now," he called out loudly into the thick silence, nonchalantly inspecting mirrors as random as he moved, his gait now fluid and dangerous.

Feeling the faint presence of powerfully concealed magic shimmer into existence behind him, he stopped walking and slowly reached towards the interior of his robes as his bones tingled with anticipation.

 _This intruder not only slipped past my personal wards, but also avoided my detection up to the very last second._

 _Just who_ _ **are**_ _you, trespasser?_

Deciding it was safer to strike first and interrogate later, he tensed his body for a split second, his toes curling in his shoes and his fingers squeezing hard onto the wood of his wand, before whirling around and exploding in violent action.

The display of magic that was emitted neither carried the majestic power that Dumbledore wielded, nor had the skilful and elegant finesse that Filius Flitwick – the current Duelling Champion in England – possessed. No, this streak of red magic that thickly spat out of his wand could only be described as raw, powerful, and _primordial._

The sanguine hued spell accelerated with terrifying speed across the room, its incandescent properties causing a dazzling lightshow that almost blinded him as it whizzed past countless mirrors through the air.

Voldemort smirked in victory as he saw the accurate beam of light close into an unmoving outline in the shadows, arrogantly presuming that the intruder has no time to react to his rapid non-verbal spell.

Mere feet away from striking the dark figure, his spell suddenly _vanished._

He gave a gasp of shock as he recognized the faint presence of Old Magic, a type of forgotten magic that carried dimorphic properties – allowing it to be used either as the sharpest weapon or as the sturdiest shield in the hands of a skilled user.

A cloaked figure then stepped into the light, seemingly absent of disguises as it carried no tell-tale hints of Glamour Charms, Transfigurations, or even the pungent whiffs of a Polyjuice Potion. The figure then raised its arms to its head and pulled the back the cloth that covered him as it continued to move forward, displaying no signs of hostility even thought it had just been attacked.

Voldemort widened his eyes as he recognized the distinctive visage that was revealed, emotions on his face then switching rapidly from surprise, to relief, to confusion, to then finally, to anger.

" _Betrayer,"_ he hissed as he started to shake with unfeigned fury, his magic flaring up and shattering the mirrors near him.

" _YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME HERE_."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** Sorry for the delayed update... finally well enough to start writing again! Thanks for all your support!(◕‿◕✿)

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 25**

The new arrival adopted an affronted look as he waved a dismissive hand in the air at the claim, seemingly oblivious to the dangerous and magically charged wizard that looked ready to blast him to oblivion.

" _Betrayer_? Rather silly to call me that, don't you think?" the new arrival objected sternly before giving a piercing look and motioning to a nearby table with his head, "Now, let's discuss this like civilized gentlemen, shall we?"

After a tense second, Voldemort sucked in a deep breath and instantly reined in all signs of belligerency, standing up straight and tucking his wand back into the deep folds of his swishing robes, his cool and collected demeanour now back in place as if nothing had just happened.

He walked slowly towards a waiting wizard that had just seated himself comfortably in the chair his follower had just vacated, "You are a child of the Dark," he called out, his voice now perfectly calm, "Where your allegiance lies is neither up to you nor me."

An astonished look erupted over the face of the other wizard, " _Dark_ , you say? Dear me, you certainly have changed," he exclaimed before shifting forward in his seat to lower his gaze, "Always remember, there is no Light, no Dark – only _power_ … and the will to use it," the other wizard chanted lowly, his voice thrumming with hidden magic towards the end of his sentence.

"As you always say," Voldemort mumbled under his breath as a wave of unseen magic washed over him, curiously noting that he was unable to pinpoint whether the pulse of power was of Light or Dark in origin. He then kept his mouth shut as he continued walking towards to the seated figure, memories of ages past rising up to the forefront of his mind.

Upon reaching the table, he elegantly slid into a chair and tightened his lips for a split second before opening them, "My apologies for the unsightly display," Voldemort started evenly as his eyebrows imperceptibly narrowed, "I was not expecting… company."

The other wizard donned a grave look as he leaned forward and placed his palms atop the wooden table, "Alas, I fear this visit is not a social one," he informed, the large girth of his clothes tightening around his chest as he spoke, "But one instead of business."

Voldemort showed no visible change in his face as he sat as he were, deliberating over the current scenario, "No beating around the bush? Very well then, colour me intrigued," he finally replied after a few seconds, his smooth voice slicing the thick air as a knife would butter, "Carry on."

The other wizard leaned back into the chair with his hands clasped across his belly, his eyes never wavering as they kept themselves locked onto Voldemort's, "To avoid the tedious effort of naming all the propositions I have to offer, I will summarize for the sake of time," he started cheerily, "In short, my side will hinder your efforts no longer."

Voldemort's eyebrows twisted in confusion as he replayed the sentence in his mind, "What do you mean _hinder my efforts_?" he echoed, "Who do you–"

He stopped talking mid-sentence as his mind finally acquired the final piece of a puzzle that he had been desperately trying to solve for the past year. "It was _you_ all along," he gasped as his sculptured arms tightly gripped onto the arms of the chair he sat on, "Your rumours, your fabrications, your shadowy political dominance, your bewildering economic decisions… they all left me questioning the abilities of my most skilled followers," he then sat up straight and gave a huff of annoyance, "It seems like their worries were not misplaced, they were hardly a match for you."

Voldemort pushed forward, "No one else but you currently possess the wherewithal to defy me. Not even the members… of the _Order_ ," he carefully enunciated as he scrutinized other wizard's face before attempting to use Legilimency. Respecting a powerful defence that rose up against him, a mental barrier that could only be broken by a select few in the wizarding world, Voldemort decided not to forcefully breach it and pulled back, mulling over the new information.

"As I suspected," he suddenly announced in extreme confidence as he leaned heavily into the wood of his chair, "You aren't on _his_ side either."

The robed wizard gave an approving nod, fully aware of what had just transpired against the shields of his mind, "Clever as always, my boy," he grinned with a proud look on his face, "Your perspicacity has always been second to none."

The mood eased up a little as Voldemort found himself giving a nostalgic smile in return, "My sincere apologies for earlier then, for questioning where your allegiances lay."

 _Hold on, why am I smiling?_

Voldemort immediately banished it from his face and focused his mind as he returned to the matter at hand, "Why were you hampering my efforts in the first place?" he begun tightly, the cadence of his voice demanding an answer, "What possibly could you have to gain? I know you… and I know we both desire the same outcome for the Wizarding World," he pressed urgently.

The other wizard sighed heavily as he stood up, the chair screeching against the stone floor, "I've been watching you for a long time. You've… changed," he started slowly, his arms waving in the air as he struggled to find the right word, "Vastly. Indubitably. For the better," he added, his disjointed sentences punctuated by low and thoughtful hums, "No more is your directive purely a genocide of those with lesser blood, nor the desecration of our magical sanctuary, but a vision for the future… a future that could positively affect the lives of everyone."

Voldemort shifted in his seat, "Enough of your silver tongue," he barked, unsure even himself as to why his mindset had been slowly changing over the past year and a half, "What exactly are you really saying?"

Instead of answering the Dark Lord, the other wizard simply turned to his side and stared out of a distant window, "Your recent interaction with the Centaurs," he started off, earning himself an angered look from the avoidance of the question, "Most fascinating use of Merneptah's lost magic. I presume you found the exact location of the Forbidden Scrolls in Egypt then?"

Voldemort's anger was pulled back in as surprise once again filled his being from the mention of two pieces of information that he thought were kept securely under wraps, "Yes, I did," he cautiously answered, "I spent roughly two years in Cairo before I found the Pharaoh's tomb," he continued, wary as to why he was being so truthful.

The other wizard looked back at him with burning eyes with just one word off the tip of his tongue, "…Why?"

Voldemort blinked twice and immediately read between the unspoken lines, "Why what?" he said with feigned ignorance, crossing his arms elegantly across his chest.

The other wizard clicked his tongue in annoyance at the blatant bait, "Why the theatrics," he said impatiently, "Why not simply use demagoguery on the Centaurs, or even just coerce them to follow you on your path? They may be old and wise, but they are not the most cautious or rational of creatures."

Voldemort gave a dramatic sigh before turning towards a tall mirror in the far corner of the room, its reflection showing nothing but a miniscule image of young adult in his early twenties, "Say we use one of these methods you have just suggested, what would then entail?" he started, adopting the tone of a cultured lecturer, "For demagoguery, the impressionable masses will learn respect. For coercion, the servant will fear the master."

Voldemort got up from his chair and began pacing on the spot, his voice growing energetic, "Fear and respect – two emotional and intellectual bonds that are fragile beyond comprehension. Fear only leads to acrimony, while respect is only a temporary connection – one that can be easily corrupted by the seed of doubt. No, no... I require something far greater than those pitiful emotions from my disciples."

"I require… _reverence._ "

The other wizard frowned from the unexpected answer, "Reverence?" he echoed, slightly baffled.

Voldemort nodded fervently, "Reverence strips away Man's uncertainties, his doubts, his fears. For only then is Man able to unbind the fetters that hold his humanity in place and pass it onto the thing he worships. A simulacrum of purification if you will."

Small beads of sweat started to form at the corners of the other wizard's brow, "I-I don't understand," he nervously interjected.

Voldemort's pacing only got quicker, his breathing more laboured, "A tool that is capable of transforming men into living weapons. A tool that would give rise to armies that obey your every command – regardless of their portents," he continued as his eyes grew brighter, "Capable of moving mountains, razing entire cities to the ground, decimating entire populations."

He grew more animated as he continued his speech, "My followers will be affected neither by the words of a Man, nor the strength of their wand. They don't desire to serve under a charismatic leader _nor_ a self-proclaimed saviour," Voldemort paused to gather his breath, "Even the plutocrats and parvenus that sit atop the food chain – the ones in full control of the Wizarding World – do not move unless they are shown a tangible representation of their desires."

The other wizard felt a slow creeping dread dilute into his being as he felt the powerful orator that was the Dark Lord before him ply his trade – elocution, with words being the strongest weapon one could wield.

"What is this representation?" the other wizard said lowly, unconsciously lowering his voice.

Voldemort gave a serene smile that seemed totally out of his place on the unnaturally young and cold face, "My dear friend, reverence can only be earned through one single act," he whispered, the mellifluous tone of his voice raising slight goosebumps on the other wizard's arms.

"A _miracle._ "

A disturbed and disbelieving look crossed the other wizard's face, "You think this planned genocide, this… _pogrom,_ is a miracle?" he returned in growl.

Voldemort stood up to his full height, his sinewy body becoming ramrod straight, "Yes, I do," he emphatically replied, "For there will first be the gnashing of teeth and bursting of hearts, the inevitable sorrow and inconsolable weeping, the solemn requiems and the grief-stricken elegies."

"For through my acts of horror and destruction, wizards and witches of all different statuses and ideologies of the world will band together for solace and succour in their rebellion against me," he paused as stared the other wizard straight in the eye, his dark orbs shining with righteousness as he reached his chilling climax, "At first, the world will mourn. They'll be united in grief…. **and then they'll just be united**."

Neither wizard spoke as they each held their breath in the thick, seemingly consuming air that surrounded them. A long minute passed before the other wizard could regain his composure and speak.

"You… speak of martyrdom do you not? Where death is given not only a voice, but also a life," he started in a breathless voice, "Do you really think scratching some long-lost rituals onto your body gives you the power to lord over men, to earn their votive offerings? Many a wizard and witch in the blood-soaked annals of history have treaded down this path before. You… are no different."

The other wizard continued without pause, "I believe are still stuck in the past. Still peering through the looking glass at the halcyon days of the Wizarding World, the rose tint of its lens enticing you to look once more at a time before Muggle-borns were allowed into our society. Truly, a hopeless cause."

The other wizard finished solemnly as he shook his head sadly, "Nothing you will do can amount to anything more than a single drop in a limitless ocean."

Voldemort stood as he were, feet planted fully on the ground, his fists loosely clenching and unclenching as fire surged through his veins, "What is an ocean," he whispered with conviction, "But a multitude of drops?"

As a fiercely stubborn face greeted his own, he suddenly lost the will to continue debating, his temper all but slowly draining away, "Oh ye of little faith," he softly sighed.

He then glanced out the window at a setting sun briefly before looking back at the familiar face, "Just tell me why you are really here," he intoned tiredly, only now remembering just how intractable the other wizard was.

The other wizard gave a surprised hum as the debate prematurely ended, "Very well," he began with slight disappointment laced within his voice, seemingly acting as if he took pleasure from verbally jousting with one of the most dangerous wizards alive, "I have come with a message from my master."

"Master?" Voldemort started with unfeigned surprise, regaining some of his vigour, "Impossible," he scoffed disbelievingly, "Who in this country could possibly claim to be your master?"

The other wizard let out a mysterious smile as he brushed the question aside, "My message is this: we will not aid the Order's forces any longer nor disrupt your activities. In return, we will come back two years from now to collect a single item from you. Do you accept?"

Voldemort sneered, "Am I to conduct business with proxies then?" he angrily retorted as he folded his arms across his chest, "I refuse to listen to your stipulations unless your 'master' reveals himself."

The other wizard carried on without a bat of an eye, as if expecting the question, "I have been given permission to only reveal his alias, his _nom_ _de guerre_ ," he informed lowly, "He is a wizard with ambitions that exceed any person I have met in my life so far – even you – and is a terrifying monster in his own regard. He calls himself… The-Wizard-Who-Sold-The-World."

A pensive look crossed over Voldemort's face as he pondered out loud, "The wizard... who sold the world, eh? What a curious moniker," he muttered under his breath, the cogs and sprockets whirring to life as his brain came up with theory after theory of who this person could be.

A solid minute passed before he looked up with a strangely energized look on his face at the waiting wizard, "Very well," he announced loudly, "I accept these conditions."

The other wizard released a breath of air from his lungs in surprise from the lack of negotiations but quickly collected himself and brought out a black scroll from under his robes, proffering it with one hand, "I hope this artefact is magically sufficient enough for you to bind our agreement."

Voldemort recognized the thousand-year-old vellum and gave an approving nod before placing his hand on the seemingly fragile parchment. After a few words to link their magical cores to the ancient object, both wizards then stood back after a soft glow briefly emanated from their frames – a signal that the ritual was complete.

The other wizard then looked out the window and saw that the sun the verge of disappearing below the trees, casting long and dramatic shadows against the backdrop of the room, "Oh dear, I believe I've overstayed my welcome," he exclaimed cheerily before carefully placing the now soot-like scroll back into his robes, "I'd best get going."

He turned back towards Voldemort with a hidden look of sadness on his face, as a father would to a burdened child, "My boy, may you find peace on your quest for… apotheosis," he uttered quietly and in finality before abruptly vanishing on the spot, leaving only behind a small vortex of swirling dust as he passed harmlessly through all the wards that protected Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort stood silent as the other wizard disappeared, his nose curiously detecting a leftover whiff of powered moonshine that hung stagnant in the air. Mulling over his thoughts as he watched the disturbed particles of dust settle back down into quiescence, he mulled over what had just transpired.

"If it were anyone else in the world who just approached me," he murmured to himself quietly, "I would have killed them right on the spot."

A feeling of muted calm slowly flowed into Tom Riddle's torn soul, an unending sea without a ripple or wave in sight. It was fifty-one long years since he was first conceived, but this was the first time he was experiencing this strange feeling, this odd sense of… serenity? He then stared out the window one final time as the last light of day drained away over the ever-darkening horizon, the mauve of the dusky sky intensifying until there nothing less but blackness.

"May we cross paths again… Professor."

* * *

 _Some time later_

A young girl stood half clothed in front of an ornamented cheval mirror that lay mounted atop a wooden plinth, her pale skin juxtaposed against a multitude of magnificent murals that called the walls in this particular place home. Vibrant splashes of blue, vermillion and turquoise dashed upon snowy white canvases showed a myriad of bucolic scenes that sought to stimulate the senses of both the connoisseur and layman alike.

Apart from those defining articles, a single bed with white and feathery pillows alongside small splint-bottomed chairs graced the room, an ornamented hat-stand and a large wooden desk lay illuminated thanks a pair of curtained windows, their white cotton cloth drawn back to reveal the world beyond.

Truly, this dressing room was the quintessence of quaintness – and one which was part of the Potter Summer Mansion.

"Dear, are you sure you don't need any help?" a voice called loudly through a closed door.

The young witch that was currently inspecting the room let out a feminine squeak as she realized that her mind had been absently wandering for quite some time.

"I-I'll be ready soon," she hurriedly called back in a slightly flustered tone.

Ariana gave a defeated sigh as she looked back at her reflection in the mirror for the tenth time that day, wondering how in Merlin's name was this particular dress that hung around her waist was even supposed to go on her body as she pulled at strips of loose fabric helplessly.

"Why did I agree to go through with this nonsense," she grumbled, now toying with wayward laces that seemed completely useless to the functionality of the cloth, "Ron would never live this down if he saw me."

Looking up for a brief second at her image yet again – a recent and unconsciously habit which she couldn't stop doing – she gave a surprised gasp as she suddenly noticed something she had totally missed beforehand.

 _There's no mistake… I've definitely grown taller!_

Her spirit soared as she gave a delighted smile and bounded over to the resident hat stand for a reference, placing one hand atop of her head to reaffirm her new height and soon realizing that this new body was finally starting its journey to – hopefully – give her a height she had always wanted. Giving a little celebratory jig as she stood half-wrapped in a squished and tousled gown, she suddenly caught sight of something else amidst her victory dance as her eyes travelled downwards.

"What the–" she muttered under her breath as she froze in alarm.

Adopting a pensive frown, Ariana began to awkwardly shuffle back towards the mirror with the intent to get a better look, her movement impeded by the Parisian–style couture that stifled action in her lower body. Upon reaching an appropriate distance, she gazed in trepidation at the enhanced image.

Although she had already experienced her menarche, she was still woefully unattuned to the new vessel that she was currently residing in as she had other, more imperative areas of activity that she needed to invest her focus on. She had been turning a blind eye to the other changes with her own body ever since she arrived in this strange new world, completely relying on the spell that kept her from harm every month thanks to Professor Slughorn.

"What's wrong with my chest?" Ariana murmured in confusion as looked down at an unfamiliar wave of gentle gradients on her once flat chest, a sight that seemed physically similar to the swellings of bruises – but without any the discolourations.

Raising one cautious hand, she gingerly prodded the offending areas to check for any signs of pain, her dainty fingers careful but precise. As she circled inwards, she soon gave a loud gasp as she felt something akin to a bolt of lightning electrify her entire body when she prodded a certain sensitive area, hurting her… yet not hurting her at the same time. Truly, the oddest and most bizarre feeling she had ever experienced over the course of her two lifetimes.

"Note to self," Ariana breathed heavily, her hand still trembling slightly from the sensitive contact, "If this swelling doesn't go down by the end of this week, get in touch with Madam Pomfrey."

Hoping that whatever medical condition was ailing her would not develop into something more severe, she hastily grabbed onto the gown that encircled her waist and brought it up to cover her upper body, as if to blot out the previous image and pretend she was whole and well. She then looked at her reflection just once more, ruminating away until she couldn't take it and finally broke the silence.

"Oh well, whatever," Ariana announced as she shrugged in indifference, adjusting the final straps on the piece of fabric that was trying its hardest to stay on her small shoulders, "It is what it is," she continued without emotion, a blasé stance that was built from the constant trials and tribulations that had occurred over the course of her life, inured to the the promise of pain or torment.

"Dear, is it okay to come in now?" suddenly came the same voice as earlier, its kind and motherly voice easily recognizable even through a thick wooden door.

Ariana twisted her body sideways and tied one last fluttering strap into a neat ribbon before shouting back an affirmative to the extremely patient lady that had been waiting on the other side of the door.

Dorea burst into the room with a poorly disguised look of eagerness on her face and immediately narrowed her eyes towards a certain young witch, one that was trying her hardest not to fidget under the intense scrutiny. "Almost done – but not quite yet," the older women emphatically decided with a nod as she moved with elegant purpose towards her charge, grabbing the tools she would need as she passed by the wooden desk.

Ariana's eyes grew wide at the appearance of the new objects and hurriedly let out a high-pitched squeak, "This is more than enough Mrs Potter, I don't need–"

As if her voice were lost upon the wind, her words was completely ignored as she was firmly planted down onto a mahogany chair that this time faced a smaller mirror, one small enough to only show her image from the neck up.

"Now, which of these do you prefer?" Dorea started briskly in a business-like tone once she had everything she wanted was set up, motioning to a collection of shiny and expensive looking earrings that lay top the dressing table.

Ariana grew animated as she gestured to the sides of her head, "M-My ears… they aren't–"

"Goodness, dear," Dorea interrupted with a chuckle as she patted the panicking young witch's cheek affectionately, "The earrings are enchanted, there's no need for piercings if you don't want them yet. We _are in_ the seventies you know."

The worry in Ariana's face visibly lessened as she calmed down and looked over the foreign, glittering baubles. Feeling as if they all looked the same from the way they glittered and shone under the morning light, she chewed on her lip and was about to pick one from random, but stopped, as one in particular caught her eye.

"That one," she decided firmly as she pointed to a rather curious looking set of earrings.

Dorea frowned slightly as she leaned forward and picked up the chosen earrings, "I'm sorry dear, those weren't supposed to be in there. I'm sure that I threw them out years ago," she replied in a confused tone as she brought them close to her face, wondering how on earth something so odd looking remained in her collection, "Are you sure you want it? I have others–"

Ariana's bright green eyes shone into hers as the younger witch tilted her head back, "I really like them Mrs Potter, can I wear them please?" she pleaded.

The sight of the large eyes with the sound of earnest tone utterly melted the heart of Dorea Potter, a woman in her late middle-ages who had lived her whole life with ample fame and wealth. Though she had been affluent, there was always one thing she wished she could trade all the material goods for in the past: to have a child.

When Lady Potter married into the Potter bloodline, she very quickly discovered that she could not bear children, much to her abject horror. She tried and tried as much as she could, and almost gave up at one point. But near eighteen years ago, she was blessed with a late-in-life miracle pregnancy – to the one and only James Potter. Though she utterly loved her irreplaceable son down to every last fibre, there was a small part of her that had always yearned for a daughter.

 _Is this fate I wonder?_ Dorea thought to herself as she looked at the small face below her, only now curiously noticing that Ariana's facial features were striking similar to her son's.

Realizing that the younger girl was still waiting for an answer, she refocused and gave a gentle nod before grabbing the respective earrings off the desk. Muttering a few words to quickly activate the magic within the tiny pieces of metal, she then attached them onto the earlobes to the one that requested for them.

"They look rather… unique, I'll admit," Dorea confessed after giving a closer inspection.

Ariana delicately ran a finger over her first ever pair of earrings as she looked at herself in the vanity mirror, relishing in the fact that out of all the design choices, the intricate flowers, the iridescent gemstones, and other complex geometric swirls, there was one in which she resonated the most with: a pair of beautifully carved animals, a stag and a doe gracefully entwined.

Pushing that train of thought to one side as she glanced down at the top of the dressing table once more, she realized with slight nervousness that there were still many nefarious looking objects that lay dormant, each carrying a palpable feel that felt as if they would suddenly jump up from the table top and pounce on her.

The first was a flat disk of held some sort of white cream that looked strangely like a compressed marshmallow. The next looked like a painter's brush, one that seemed as if it could create a masterpiece on a canvas but had bristles that seemed too soft to be dipped in paint. Beside it was a square box that was evenly partitioned into many different sections, each one showing a unique colour as if a housing a scrumptious selection of candies. Alongside those, a myriad of other objects lay ready and waiting.

The hairs on the back of the neck stood up as she sensed growing danger in the air. Giving a big gulp, she slowly turning her head inch by inch to the side and was greeted with large and rather terrifying smile, one that most resembled Madam Malkin's, when she was forced to wear dress after dress whilst shopping almost a year and a half ago.

"My dear," Dorea started with a predatory grin, looking a bit too enthusiastic for the younger witch's liking, "Shall we begin?"

Ariana's squawk of protest went unheard as the next hour or so was dedicated purely to an activity was entirely new to the young witch, the precise and complex art of human beautification.

"… and for future reference, this part goes into here, and this part goes into _here_ ," Dorea informed not unkindly as they neared the end of the ordeal, loosening some laces and reversing the direction of a line of fabric near the hem of Ariana's dress, effectively perfecting the setup.

" _Voila!_ " she cried with triumph once the final touches were in place before hurrying the young witch over to the cheval mirror, "Take a look, dear."

Ariana slowly walked over to the mirror, almost nervous for some mysterious reason. When she reached her destination, her heart skipped a beat and she sharply sucked in a breath of air as she glanced upon her reflection, almost not recognizing the other person that lay within the mirror's silvery depths **.**

 _W-What is this?_

Soft, ivory shoulders lay partially exposed as midnight-black curls tumbled gracefully down her back in waves, the undulations so smooth and texture so silky it almost resembled a river of molten onyx. Full lips carefully tinted a cherry red sat delicately amongst a sea of flawless skin as vivid green eyes shone like twin suns under the soft glow of the morning sun.

 _This person... is me?_

A dark purple gown made of soft, satiny fabric draped long and loose over her lithe figure. Sleeves hung gently around the elbows and at the bottom of the dress, where the pooled gossamer effused only a sense of sartorial elegance. The thing that caught her eye the most however, was a bewitching violet sash that held the gown together in her midriff with the use of a tiny flower pin – its design a beautifully sculptured orchid.

A gentle breath of natural wind breezed in through the window while she was inspecting herself, their cool tendrils wrapping around the young witch's skin as it lightly rustled her dress and hair. As Ariana's eyes travelled upwards to observe stray strands of jet black hair that danced to the tune of the wind, she made an audible noise of surprise as she suddenly realized something.

 _It looks like makeup hides the scar on my forehead._

 _Also... it looks like none of my other past injures can be seen too._

Turning her body from side to side as she scrutinized all the exposed parts of her body, she did indeed affirm that no visible traces of scars were visible. She then gave sudden but joyful laugh as she playfully twirled around on the spot, the dress mimicking her action as it fluttered daintily around in the air. Her face flushed with colour and her heart rate sped up as a grin slowly formed, a first nascent twitch of the upper lips that slowly led to a radiant smile that stretched across her entire face.

 _I feel like a different person now... no prophecy, no war, no sacrifices. The proofs of my struggles are not visible anymore. I look… I look…_

 _I look normal._

"Yes, you do," came a low voice from behind her, interrupting her quiet musing.

Ariana whirled around at the sound as the words registered in her mind, "D-Did you just read my mind?" she stammered in shock, unconsciously taking one step back and instinctively throwing up a powerful mental shield.

Dorea gave a sad, fleeting smile at the defensive reaction before holding up her arms in a placating manner, fully aware of what her charge had just checked for – for she was the one to hide the ugly scars that sullied the young witch, "No, but I saw the change in your face," she gently explained to the young girl as she walked over and kneeled down so that they were both eye-level.

"And whatever thing you thought of yourself that caused you to smile like that, it is _nothing_ but the truth," Dorea continued strongly, "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

As Ariana slowly lowered her Occulumency shield, a rush of emotion filled her heart as unbidden tears started to pool at the corners of her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't help but let a few stray droplets spill over from her eyes as she rushed forward and threw her arms around the woman opposite her in a tight hug.

Dorea was caught by surprise for a brief second before she returned the action in kind, murmuring words of comfort as she encompassed the sobbing witch with a tender embrace that only a mother could accomplish.

"Why…" came a muffled whisper from the smaller, trembling frame, "Why… are you always so nice to me? You hardly know me or my story. What could I have possibly done to earn your kindness?"

Dorea gave a thoughtful hum before prying the tightly clinging girl off her and placing her hands on the younger witch's shoulders as her face took on a serious countenance. A fire then lit up in her eyes as she began to reply, her voice carrying no traces of unsureness or hesitancy.

"I have kept every letter James has sent back home in the past year," she started strongly, purpose flowing into her voice, "And almost every last one of them includes a little anecdote of your doings, ranging from how you would try your hardest to help your schoolmates with their studies, regardless whether they were Gryffindors or Slytherins, how you would run up and cheerfully greet all the Professors when you see them, and even to how you would interact with the house-elves in the kitchens."

"He would also often say that you were the most popular witch in your year, and everyone knew it – apart from you," Dorea added with an soft laugh.

Realizing she was diverging away from the point, she refocused and tightened her grips on the young witch's shoulders, "An act of kindness can take on many forms in this world," she continued intensely, "Some people in this world do it in return for future favours, some to do it to brag, and others do them to only appear altruistic – although it is mostly for the sake of fame, glory or even monetary gains."

"However, kindness for the sake of kindness itself, is the only act which carries momentous weight and speaks volumes about a person," she carried on, "Purposeful and genuine, endless as the sea, _this_ is what I saw in the real you."

"Kindness begets kindness, regardless of their circumstances," she emotionally ended before putting her hands softly on the sides of the young girl's head as both of their eyes connected, " _Never_ forget that."

Ariana stayed wide-eyed, silent and unmoving as she listened to her grandmother talk from the start to finish.

She then felt something odd twist within her chest. Hidden insecurities and fears about being spurned or rejected by the Potter family in her heart slowly dissolved away into nothingness as she then felt something else take their place and plant itself within her. It was a feeling of relief, a feeling of trust… a feeling of _belonging_.

The corners of her lips slowly curved upwards slowly, happiness starting to surge through her and warming her from the inside out as it gained impetus with every passing second. The nascent rise of her lips then exploded into a radiant smile as she started laughing for a reason she couldn't place a finger on, the melodious peals soft and gentle, like the sound of tinkling bells.

Dorea gave a slight start from the sudden change in mood but soon started laughing herself alongside the younger girl as the infectious sounds of joy, bright and cheerful like dandelions in summer days, spread to her.

It certainly took a while but they both managed to calm down in the end, each one carrying a flushed face and full heart from what had just transpired.

"You _definitely_ are one of a kind," Dorea murmured lowly after she had finally regained her composure, not at all phased by the volatile and capricious behaviour her charge had just exhibited.

She then perked up when she noticed something, "Oh – hold still for a moment, dear" she quickly said as she pulled out her wand from a hidden holster that was attached to the side of her leg, "We wouldn't want all our hard work to go to waste, now would we?" she cheerfully continued as she motioned to tear tracks that meandered down the young girl's face, their gravity-aided paths disturbing the carefully applied makeup.

With a flick of her wand and a few mumbled words, the transient damage reverted itself as swiftly as it came, restoring the image to a figure that would surely stop many a person in his or her tracks at the sight.

Dorea gave a satisfied look as she carefully holstered her wand before standing back up to inspect her handiwork, "Many of the boys will be lining up to woo you later, that's for sure," she grinned cheekily as she leaned forward and tucked loose strands of midnight-black loose hair behind the younger girl's ears.

Ariana's brow furrowed in confusion as she replayed the sentence in her head, "Err, boys… woo me?" she repeated slowly, her voice lilting towards a questioning tone at the end as she tiled her head sideways.

Dorea's eyebrows raised upwards in surprise for a brief second before a fresh memory rose to the surface of her mind, "Ah… yes. James did tell me about this issue recently," she murmured to herself as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "Hmm… I'll guess it's better to address it after the event is over," she continued with a small shrug, deciding that this was not of vital import, "Time and a place, after all."

Her eyes then grew slightly shadowed as the topic reminded her that she had forgotten to ask the young witch something that she deemed more significant than the current conversation.

"Ariana, dear," Dorea carefully started, the words now turning slow and selected, "May I ask you a question?"

The addressed adolescent gave a nervous nod at the abrupt change in mood as she squashed her previous curiosities and focused on the new one, unaware that the previous topic had been adroitly brushed to one side.

Dorea nodded approvingly when she saw her charge don a focused look. She then readied herself as she prepared a verbal blitzkrieg, a tactic that is most effective when worked on children.

"Do you love my son?" she questioned bluntly, speaking quick but making sure her words were clear.

Ariana's heart missed a beat, "W… What?" she gasped as she physically faltered, stunned from the question that came out of the blue.

"James Charlus Potter, do you love him?" Dorea repeated with a straight face.

Words did not seem to come out of Ariana's mouth as she opened and closed it repeatedly in shock. After a few seconds, she found her voice, "Of… Of course, I do," she spluttered loudly in protest, as if almost being accused of something, " _Every_ last bit of him."

As she glared up at the Potter matriarch in indignance, time seemed to slow down as her mind realised what had just happened, and what she had just said out loud. Giving a high-pitched squeak of panic, she whipped her head downward and stared at the floor in embarrassment from the confession she had blurted out without thinking, blushing heavily against her will.

 _W-What is this…? Why is my face heating up? Did I somehow mess up? Was my acting too obvious? Is this a test? How did…_

As hundreds of questions and a multitude of hypothetical scenarios thundered and played themselves out through her mindscape at a terrifying speed, she suddenly also realized that what she said in her previous answer could be very easily misinterpreted.

" _W-Wait_ ," Ariana near shouted in panic as she cast all her other trains of thought aside, daring to raise her head and reveal the crimson hue that coloured her once pale face, "I… I don't love him in the way you think though."

"Oh?" came the level and patient response, "In what way, then?"

A voice that was laden with hidden understanding boosted her confidence as she struggled to reveal her innermost feelings, "He's… the reason I'm standing here right now," she started with difficulty, "I would be nothing without his guidance and encouragement. The… strength he gives me, cannot be duplicated nor replicated by any other," she carried on with increasing conviction, "I love him like… like a…"

"Like a brother?" Dorea suggested abruptly, sounding bizarrely hopeful as she interrupted the girl mid-speech.

 _Not… quite._ Ariana thought to herself as she pursed her lips, wondering where in Merlin's name was this rollercoaster of a conversation was heading.

"Something like that," she mumbled softly, casting her eyes back towards the ground once again from the one-sided awkwardness.

To her astonishment, all that reaction Dorea did in was to give a large sigh of what seemed like relief before saying only one word with a tone of finality.

"Great."

Ariana whipped her head up and stared at the middle-aged witch, bothered by the unhelpful conclusion, "What's great?" she asked in slight fervency, her burning curiosities rising up and blossoming within her.

Dorea gave a playful wink before turning heel and making for the door, "Charlus and I have something rather special to tell you," she said over her shoulder, pausing at the door to finish, "But it's best to wait until after we're back at Godric's Hollow."

Frowning from a lack of response from behind her after a few good seconds, she then turned around and noticed amusedly that the young witch's face had turned pensive and was currently staring off into space, lost in her own world as the soft glow of the morning light bathed her head in what seemed like an ethereal halo.

Her heart melted completely for the third time that morning as from the adorable, wide-eyed face her charge was displaying that could only be described as precious. Muffling a giggle with her hand as she knew full well that the girl was trying her hardest to figure out this new mystery, she spoke up after a minute after she was visually satiated from the sight.

"Ariana, dear" she gently called out, "Time to go."

Ariana's mind reconnected with her physical body and gave a small start from being addressed, blinking rapidly and shaking her head as she hastily discerned her surroundings. Quickly realizing where she was, she then obediently followed the older witch out of the door and started heading down towards her father's eighteenth birthday party.

Trying her hardest not to bump into objects or walls with her flawless and crinkle-free dress, and endeavouring to keep her face untouched for the fear of ruining her makeup as so to please her grandmother, a stray thought passed fleetingly through her head as she walked down the last set of stairs in the direction of the ever-increasing sound of polite murmurs and tinkling of expensive glasses.

 _Albus, you were supposed to meet with me two days ago..._

… _where in Merlin's name are you?_


	26. Chapter 26

Dear esteemed reader, I thank each and every one of you for your patience and support!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 26**

 _One week ago_

An ear-splitting sound that resembled the crack of a whip sliced through the air as an acrid scent of burning brimstone and bitter ash instantly filled the room. A millisecond after, a man suddenly burst forth into reality and instantly crumpled to the ground, his robes matted and pinched as if he had just been violently thrown across the room.

The individual's mind was still in control however, as he then weakly raised a hand from his supine position and silently cast a spell with a swishing motion. As one, all the paintings inside of the room flipped around and turned on its back, effectively preventing unwanted eyes and ears.

 _Pain._

This wizard would have cried for help, but there was no strength in his voice, just a whisper. His breath quivered in short, quick gasps every time he inhaled, his lungs having no choice but to painfully and rigidly take in the chilled air around him. He couldn't seem to stop shaking either as and his consciousness ebbed and flowed like the rise and fall of the tide.

 _Agonizing pain._

The wizard gritted his teeth as he gathered the remainder of his strength to haul himself up onto his feet. Every inch of his body screamed at him as he clutched a blackened and seemingly injured hand with his other. Sweat drenched his hair and face as he mustered more energy to move his legs as he, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, tried his hardest to ignore the searing bursts of pain that pulsated through his hand, intensifying and spreading with each dragging step, jarring and brutal.

"F…Fawkes…" he whispered weakly, stumbling towards a what he thought was his bed, his eyesight blurred and out of focus, " _…h-help_."

A black mist began to swirl at the edges of Albus' mind when he reached his destination and collapsed onto the soft bed, the discolouration on the tip of his index finger now spreading rapidly down to his palm as he lay face down, now unable to move, his vision darkening with each passing second. When all hope seemed lost, a burst of light suddenly lit up the room in a flare behind him as a being of power breathed into existence.

The immortal being had sensed its master's distress.

Fawkes gave a screech of panic and accelerated across the room a burst of speed, flapping with its fiery wings as it catapulted itself towards the still figure, crashing roughly into the frame of the bed a second later before quickly recovering and assessing the situation with its beady eyes. Within a split second, it knew the exact location of the curse that was eating away at its master's body and immediately made for it, hopping over and angling its head downwards to release one of the rarest and most miraculous liquids in the world: phoenix tears.

The droplets of water started falling down one after another, without a sign of stopping. A soft hissing sound stained the thick silence in the room as the healing properties worked their magic, doing the best it could to repair the physical damage that was ravaging the aged body.

Strength flowed back into Albus' body as the tears reconnected muscle and arteries, repaired nerves and tendons, and restored motor functions back to his wizened body. Blinking twice to clear the fading fog on his eyes after what seemed like an eternity, he hastily pushed himself into a seating position and brought out the Elder Wand from his folds of his robes. Pointing it towards his injured hand, he started casting spell after spell, incantation after incantation, ritual after ritual, with all the magical power he could provide, issuing forth a barrage of protective and healing spells that only a few in the world had knowledge of.

After a couple of minutes of spellcasting, Albus felt the first strains of magical exhaustion hit him as his body unconsciously buckled. Realizing that his life was no longer in danger from the copious amount of magic that was preventing the curse from spreading further, he realized what he was doing and wearily dropped his knobbly wand onto the bed, turning his head towards his saviour.

"Thank you, my friend," Albus croaked gratefully, his throat feeling as rough as sandpaper as he reached out with one hand to stroke the soft plumage of his familiar, who gently crooned joyously in response at its master's recovery as it leaned lovingly into his touch.

Aware of the fact that he was not out of the woods just yet as he knew that he had only stymied the curses' metastatic-like spread and not completely eradicated it, he quickly decided on his next course of action. Wiggling his toes to test his body before getting out of his bed, he felt another surge of gratitude well up within him, glad that he was still on this mortal plane thanks to Fawkes.

He glanced towards a grandfather clock that stood solemnly by bedside and gave a sigh of relief as he noted that it was four in the morning.

"Good, _he_ should be in his room then," he murmured to himself.

He gave Fawkes one final stroke on its soft head before marching over the fireplace purposefully, grabbing some silvery powder from his desk on the way. He knew very well that certain Floo networks were monitored but this time he didn't care, for this was the quickest way and simplest way to get his message across.

Muttering a short chant under his breath, he tossed the powder into the ever-burning embers in his hearth and promptly stuck his head into a granular heap of ash and soot. After a few loud calls, it didn't take long to wake and summon the person who he just disturbed to his private quarters.

The door to his office soon opened after a brief minute as Horace Slughorn himself entered, still clad in his signature striped pyjamas. Sleepily trotting across the room, he had to prevent a barrage of yawns that threatened to take him back to the sweet land of dreams.

"Albus, what's the matt–,"

"Your face!" the Potions Master suddenly cried out in alarm as he cut himself off, spying a sallow complexion from across the room, the shock causing him to lose his drowsiness as he started jogging towards his colleague, "Do you need some of my Pepper-Up potions?"

"Thank you for your concern, Horace," Albus calmly replied, seemingly relaxed as he sat ramrod straight on the edge of his bed "But this is related to something of paramount importance of which I'll need to discuss with you immediately."

Horace's eyes widened by a fraction as he stopped moving mid-step, immediately registering the hidden urgency in the tone and the implications behind the specific wording.

A serious look crossed the Potion Master's face as he brought out his wand and held it against his breast in a tight clasp, "With magic as my birthright and witness," he chanted clearly and loudly, "No word shall pass my lips of the event that shall occur forthwith lest my life is forfeit, unless Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, wills it."

Albus smiled warmly as a soft glow of light bathed the Potions Master, the visible proof that his magic had recognized the spoken pact. He was glad that he had trusted Horace, and vice versa, for he had no one other that he could think of that he could turn to as of this moment. The magical oath was merely a deterrent against truth potions such as Veritaserum, should such scenarios ever arise.

Donning a steely gaze and setting a grim but firm line across his mouth to convey the seriousness of the situation, Albus performed no other act but to simply roll up his sleeve and bring his right hand under the illumination of the gentle candlelight.

All levity and facetiousness in Horace's face vanished the instant he saw the blackened fingers revealed by the glow. Leaping forward in a near mad scramble, he ignored the shock on the other wizards' face as he grasped the hand and inspected it in a way only professional Healer or Mediwitch could.

Every action he took as he analysed the defiled hand was precise, purposeful and deliberate.

"This is powerful magic… extremely powerful," Horace muttered darkly after a tense minute before glancing up at Albus, "What was its genesis?" he barked urgently, "Was it an experimental spell? A cursed object? An ancient ritual? An invocation gone awry?"

Albus looked ashamed for a split second before replying, "It came from an accursed ring," he revealed, the characteristic twinkle in his heavenly blue eyes all but absent, "I… I placed it on my index finger and the curse activated shortly after."

Horace growled something under his breath as he deliberated over the new information, "Where is this ring?" he asked tensely after a brief session of humming and hawing, "I will need the original source of magic as a conduit if I'm to completely reverse this."

Albus shifted uneasily, "My apologies," he responded in a weary voice, "But in my panic, I wrenched the ring off my finger and used a… method which resulted in the complete destruction of its magic."

Horace clicked his tongue in annoyance but said nothing, for he currently was lost in his own world. With his wand now out, he then cast a thousand and one spells of a diagnostic nature upon the hand, only for him to grit his teeth in anger as one after another failed to identify the source of the curse.

"Do you know whether it's neutral or dark magic?" Albus finally asked after a good five minutes of tense silence.

Horace unconsciously flinched, "It is… powerful magic, that is the only thing that matters," he replied in a subtly layered voice before a look of confusion crossed his face, "And this web of magic also feels… familiar somehow."

Just before Albus could respond to that alarming statement, Horace stood back up, his face transforming into a serious and calculating countenance, the cursed hand sliding out of his grasp and falling onto the bed with the gravity as its guide.

"Interesting, very interesting," he muttered to himself as he stroked his chin, "The black discolouration of the skin resembles a variation of _haematoma_ ; the pliancy of the bone – a strange form of _osteomalacia_ ; the biggest clue however, is the pain induced by movement – probably nerve damage… related to _hypercalcaemia…_ because the bone is breaking down, perhaps?" he gave a thoughtful hum, "The excess calcium is somehow…"

Albus' eyebrows furrowed at the vaguely familiar style of wording, "It that… Muggle terminology?" he asked in complete bewilderment.

Horace' ignored his patient's query and lay silent for a full minute as his mind worked overtime, churning out theories and ideas before he eventually came to a prognosis.

"Albus, I think I have an idea of what's going on," he finally spoke, breaking the silence, "All of these points then toward a curse. One which I believe mimics the effects of _avascular necrosis_."

Albus grew even more confused at the new words, "What–"

"Please let me finish," Horace firmly but gently requested.

After seeing an apologetic nod, he carried on to the crux of the matter, "Simply put, it means that your bone tissue is slowly dying as the magic cuts off your supply of blood," he explained gravelly, "Normally, this condition is localized and is easily treatable with a wide range of potions, but this is the first case I've ever seen of it magically spreading with such vicious malignancy."

"The only reason why you're still alive right now is the fact that you had somehow slowed down the growth to a crawl with your own magic," he continued as he looked out of an open window and into the pitch blackness of the early morning sky, absolute in its opaque blanket as not a single star shone down from the heavens.

"I have a few palliative potions in my cupboards that will deal with the pain that will soon undoubtedly seek to rend you unconscious," he revealed after a slight pause, his voice now turning slightly tremulous, " _And,_ I believe I can concoct a remedy that will deal with most of the symptoms. But…" he trailed off.

Albus' eyes grew wider from the hesitation in the voice of one of the most intellectually gifted wizards he knew, "But what?" he asked almost fearfully.

Horace gave an odd half smile as he looked back at his friend, the idiosyncratic joviality he always carried with him all but absent as he spoke, "Albus, this manner of magic is one that I have never come across before in either my theoretical or empirical findings," he started emotionlessly as he walked back and sat down heavily beside the other wizard.

He paused momentarily as another the odd, pinched look cross his face, as if struggling to find the right words to say.

"If my calculations are right… you have roughly one year left to live."

Albus made an involuntary gagging sound as his throat seized up, the muscles in his body tightening all up as one, " _No_ ," he managed to choke out in a quavering voice, "You're… you're lying. It's… it's…"

Fear welled up within him and clamped with mouth shut as only a sorrowful face gazed back at him. There were so many things he and the Order still needed to accomplish, and one year was definitely not enough time to see them through. His eyes grew shadowed as his head hung low, his mind betraying him and flooding him with terrifying images of non-existent futures.

 _Oh Merlin… what have I DONE?_

He felt sweat beginning to drench his wrinkled skin, he felt a throbbing in his eyes, he felt muted screams of those were long dead vibrate in his ears, he felt the rapid thumping of his aged heart within his heaving chest. His world teetered on the edge of blackness.

"You've done well, Albus," Horace whispered quietly as put a comforting hand over the trembling shoulder of his lifelong friend, "You've done so very well."

After a minute of melancholic silence, the Potions Master suddenly retracted his hand and stood up purposefully, a roaring fire now burning in the brazier of his heart.

"Albus, don't worry," Horace suddenly announced with a loud voice, "For I shall salvage everything that you have so worked hard for," he planted his feet firmly on the floor, his eyes blazing with conviction.

Albus lifted his head sluggishly and looked at the other wizard with hollow eyes, "W-What?" he slurred, almost as if drunk.

Horace nodded in absolute seriousness, "I have connections and plans of my own," he divulged as he knelt down before the hunched wizard so they were both eye level, "Listen to me carefully Albus, if you want to win, _you have to purposely lose_. There is no other way _,_ " he finished cryptically.

A perplexed look crossed over the other wizard's tired face, "What do you mean–"

"Leave everything else to me, my dear friend," Horace interrupted gently, "You've earned your rest."

Albus' eyes lit up and his mouth formed a small 'O' before replying, "Fascinating," he softly chuckled as some of the twinkle returned to his sky-blue eyes, "So my suspicious were right after all. You were indeed our unknown benefactor all along," he gave a quiet hum before continuing with a bowed head, "And for all that you have done for us… I thank you."

Albus then felt some strange strength infuse back into his being as he lifted his head back up, "You realize this doesn't change anything, right?" he added, somehow gaining even more energy with each passing word, "I will continue defying Tom Riddle, until the day I breathe my final breath."

Horace gave a small chuckle at the predictable response, "Who do you take me for?" he replied softly, "Of course I knew that."

As they shared a nostalgic grin between them, Horace suddenly broke eye contact as his face lit up, almost as if an epiphany had struck him. He then mumbled something under his breath rapidly, the words coming out so fast it seemed as if he was speaking two sentences at once.

"… _it might be possible… my master's power… there is still time_ _…_ "

Albus strained his ears, "Horace…?" he asked quizzically.

Horace looked back up and gazed back into electrifying blue orbs that gazed down at him, where regret, pain, sadness, determination, love, and strength all swam together in shimmering pools of cerulean.

"Two… years," he said slowly, almost unsurely.

Albus tilted his head, "Two years?" he echoed.

Horace nodded, "I promise you, in two years, I will solve _everything_ ," he vowed solemnly, his voice gaining momentum as he spoke.

Albus lowered his gaze as he felt deep into thought, trying to understand the riddle that was wrapped inside of an enigma of a man in front of him.

"Horace... we need to have a very long talk, that's for sure," he murmured softly as a wave of physical and mental fatigue washed over him, his emotions jumbled and battered from the roller-coaster of events that had just transpired.

Horace gave another nod as he silently agreed, realizing that Albus still needed time to recollect his thoughts. Suddenly, a determined face set itself on the Potion Master's face as he pulled out his wand once gain out of his pyjamas and turned on the spot, magically conjuring his robes onto his outstretched arm.

Before he could take a few steps, a voice called over his shoulder.

"You're leaving Hogwarts… aren't you?"

"Only temporarily," Horace briskly replied in a business-like tone as he bounded towards the office door, a spring in his step, "But not before I make you your potion and we have our talk, of course."

Albus frowned as he watched the back of the retreating wizard. There was something else going on – he was sure of it.

"Where are you really going?" he called out, the cadence of his voice demanding nothing but the undiluted truth.

Horace paused at the door, his hand frozen mid-air on its then turned his head back to reveal a vicious grin, his teeth gleaming under the candlelight as something almost feral flashed across his face.

" _To trick the devil himself_."

* * *

 _Present time_

Lady Potter's sense of style could only be described in one word: extravagant.

At a first glance, the room almost seemed like a festival of lights. Hundreds of banquet lamps floated leisurely in the air, their strong glow illuminating the massive room with their ever-burning candles. Their lazy waltz played the role of miniature suns shining against the backdrop of the dark ceiling – which was magically enchanted to resemble a midwinters night sky. Long oak tables laden with succulent delicacies lay largely untouched as dawn waned into the early stages of the morning.

The people that participated in the scene were just as curious as the decorations.

An old couple lay detached from the rest of the throng, one glass of wine each as they studiously bent over and perused over numerous pieces of parchment that lay scattered before them. A group of young women in their thirties gossiped and tittered away as stern elders looked upon and frowned with disapproval. Men stood where they pleased in the room, their noses stuck in the air with what seemed like permanent disdain and talked only when they needed to – nothing more, nothing less. The teenagers and those younger lay shepherded to one side of the room and out of the way of the adults, their mannerisms mimicking their parents in nearly every aspect.

The costumes however, were not as drab as the atmosphere, for they were as colourful as a summer garden. Bold yellows, magenta, turquoise and emerald green splayed across the room in waves. Butlers and servants clad in frock coats, bowties and all other manner of formal wear weaved effortlessly through the vibrant mass of wizards and witches, their platters offering only the most exotic of foods and the most mysterious of drinks to those who showed any sign of willingness to explore the unknown.

Only the Potter matriarch could turn a simple birthday into an event of such splendour that was to last for an entire day.

Ariana took a deep breath after she finished scanning and assessing the room, slightly nervous from the large amount of blue bloods that were chattering and socializing to their heart's content in the repurposed ballroom. She knew that each guest was fully aware that this was not just a simple coming-of-age celebration, but one with fertile ground for new connections, nefarious political deals, off-the-books economic offers, and unspoken favours.

The very same witch squirmed – but only on the inside – as a single though drifted to the top of her mind.

 _So… what do I do now?_

As if a higher power just strummed their fingers across the strings of fate, her face lit up as the faces of James and Sirius flashed briefly amongst the sea of brightly coloured wizards and witches. Deciding that it should be safer for her if she tagged along with either one the teenagers, she calmly made for the other side of the room as her mind rifled quickly through memories for rules on Pure-blood etiquette she had so studiously learned in what seemed like a lifetime ago now.

As Ariana confidently strode across the room donned with a violet gown that flowed gracefully around her with each step, she soon heard whispers and murmurs erupt across the room. She was about to blot them out – as per the usual in her previous life – but stopped at the last second, as she realized something was quite different. This time, it was neither the nasty name-calling nor fevered praises of hero-worship she was so used to.

This time, it sounded like undiluted wonder.

"… _don't recognize that face… a foreign bloodline perhaps?... This…"_

"… _wonder what is her age… perfect for my son…"_

"… _what a stunning young lady… I wonder if she is…"_

Ariana kept a straight face as she pushed past this new type of shameless and blatant gossiping, keeping her stride perfect and graceful. Keeping her head held high, she wandered around the expansive hall carrying large expressive eyes that looked at anything and everything. She soon found the two teenagers she was looking for.

They were both clad in relatively similar outfits that seemed muted against the colourful outfits the rest of the guests were wearing. James was dressed in casually tailored robes that highlighted his lean and sinewy body, honed from years of experience of playing Quidditch, its mauve hue emphasizing the dressing's brisk and clear cuts. Sirius was wearing one similar but his was highlighted in a shade of dark olive.

Perhaps it was the sartorial simplicity that gave away the illusion of likeness.

Sneaking closer, she stifled a giggle as she caught one of them the middle of telling the other a commonly repeated and rather inappropriate joke – one that she had heard many a time in boy's dormitories.

"…and then she said, ' _One slip of the tongue, and you're in–"_

James nudged Sirius forcefully and interrupted him mid-sentence as he instantly noticed the new arrival, the resplendent violet dress that seemed to shimmer under the candlelight causing him to rub his eyes just to make sure his eyes were working properly.

Ariana surreptitiously checked her surroundings for eavesdroppers before quickly deeming it safe enough to talk, opting to open up with a rather out of the ordinary greeting.

" _Salvete, amicis meis epularer,"_ she greeted fluently in Latin as she performed an elegant and complicated curtsy that was used by antiquated nobilities and was almost lost to time, "How are you gentlemen doing on this fine day?" she continued with a perfect and dazzling smile to two astonished wizards.

James recovered quickly – as always – and raised an eyebrow at the re-enactment of a Pure-blood greeting that reminded him of the Old Ways, "Very impressive," he said dryly, giving a single sarcastic clap, "But… I would have to rate it a seven out of ten."

A petulant look crossed Ariana face as she threw up her hands in the air in disbelief, "Oh come on. I did that move flawlessly," she whined childishly as she broke her stance and motioned to her lower body, "Didn't you see those perfect leg movements?"

Before anyone could get a response in, her face then lit up as she remembered that she still had to show off what she had been working so hard on for the past two hours. She grinned mischievously and put her hands on her hips in a pose.

"So, guys, what do you think of my outfit?" she asked brightly without pause, looked up expectedly at them, nervous for some strange reason as she patiently waited for an answer.

James' eyes widened slightly as he only now realized at the sight he was looking at, "You look… err…" he started as his face started to grow slightly red, his mind stubbornly giving him the right words to say, "I mean… I guess it's–"

Sirius rolled his eyes before cutting his bumbling friend off and taking charge of the situation, striding forward and kneeling down on one knee as he took one of Ariana's hand in his with a most comical look of seriousness on his face.

"I do beseech you – chiefly that I may set it in my prayers – what is your name, my lady?" he cried out dramatically, "Harken unto my pleas, for there is naught a lass fairer in this world than the one I gaze upon," he finished breathlessly, the overflowing amounts of aplomb and panache in his believable act showing the works of a natural-born thespian in the making.

Ariana blinked once at a response she clearly didn't anticipate. She then let out unconscious giggle against her will from the bizarre act, one that certainly easily topped her odd greeting. She couldn't stop herself from extending one small hand forward and patting the black-haired wizard's head as if he were a lovable dog. She wasn't exactly sure what compelled her to do it.

Sirius was… well, just Sirius.

"See, James? It's quite simple, all you got to do is make them laugh," Sirius smirked at the other teenager before giving a cheeky wink as he moved out of range of the young witch and stood back up.

"Sod off, Padfoot," James grumbled in annoyance, "I know that."

"Oh, I doubt that you do," Sirius replied with a disbelieving snicker, "You've only ever had your sights on one girl this entire time," he paused, "A girl which prefers violence and threats as a medium to converse, if I might add."

James' eyes briefly flickered towards the young witch beside him as something odd twisted in his chest, "Yes…" he murmured absently in agreement, "…only one girl."

Ariana then perked up and expressively waved a hand in the air as to attract the attention of the Potter heir, recalling something of relative import she had forgotten to ask about the day before.

"Sorry to interrupt but, James, did you buy a new wand recently?" she asked curiously, speaking quickly and all in one breath.

The teenager – well, young man really – gave a delighted smile at the question and reached into the folds of his robes in response, intent on bringing out and showing off his latest purchase.

"You have a keen eye, Miss Peverell," he commended sincerely as he rummaged in the stiff fabric that sought to constrict his body, "My old wand had been acting up for quite a while now so I was forced to buy a new one from good ol' Ollivander himself. It has the most interesting–"

James cut himself off mid-sentence and sucked his breath in sharply as someone new pulled into hearing distance of their conversation, a particular person he had wished to completely avoid in his life if was within his power to do so.

The newcomer has a wizard, looked roughly in his mid-twenties and had perfectly combed shoulder-length blonde hair, its silky and smooth texture surely an object of envy for every lady in the room. Pitch black formal robes stood out amongst the vivid colours as it's wearer moved forward, the crinkle-free and dust-free fabric revealing that it was obviously enchanted in some way.

James quickly took his hand out of his robes and plastered a strained smile on his face as he faced the man who had just strode up before them.

" _Salvete,_ Lord Malfoy," he greeted with a slight nod of his head, unconsciously using part of Ariana's odd greeting as he quickly rearranged his thoughts in order, several warnings that he had gotten from his parents flashing through his head.

A surprised look crossed over Lucius Malfoy's face before he banished it completely, " _Salve et tu,_ Heir Potter," he acknowledged in return with a nod of approval.

Lucius' eyes then flickered briefly towards other wizard and witch his person of interest was previously conversing with, "Pardon my intrusion," he continued smoothly, his jet-black robes swishing as he casually clasped onto an elegant cane that bore the sculpture of a snake head on its top, "But there is a pressing matter that I must speak with you in private, if you're available of course," he added politely, looking at only James and acting as if the other two people didn't exist.

James unconsciously straightened his back as his eyes grew deadly serious. Here was the first of many political deals he would be offered today, for adulthood in the wizarding world had profound implications for a high-ranking Pure-blood. When a scion of a notable Pure-blood family reaches eighteen years of age, he or she would be granted a de facto seat in Wizengamot, the court of law and parliament. Not officially of course, for the pretence of 'democracy' in the Wizarding World meant that rigged referendums and blatant gerrymandering went undocumented and uncontested.

"With pleasure," James replied calmly.

He was ready for this.

And with that short exchange, he steadily walked off after Lucius without looking back nor talking to Sirius and Ariana. Although he seemingly ignored them, he gave some quick hand signals to them behind his back before he disappeared into the sea of wizards and witches.

Throughout that entire scenario, the only thing Ariana could focus on was a mass of magic that emitted from Lucius' neck – only visible to her eyes of course. Disgusting waves of green and black gave her slight nausea as fibrous ribbons that seemed to have a life of their own waxed and waned in a manner that resembled a heartbeat.

 _Is that... a necklace?_ She thought intensely as she strained her eyes as much as she could. All she could make out however, was the first signs of silver chain that was evidently linked to carry some green object that hung around his neck. As she ruminated away – not even realising that Lucius and James had already left – she gave a start when someone touched her arm.

"What–"

"Be wary of your surroundings," Sirius murmured as he made subtle shushing gestures, "The walls have both ears and eyes."

Ariana frowned briefly at the cryptic words as she surreptitiously glanced around the room, she herself feeling something amiss as well.

She then noticed tight look that was drawn across the teenage wizard's face and instantly interpreted what the worried countenance meant, "I'll be fine," she whispered suddenly, "Go. Make sure James doesn't do anything stupid. He needs you."

A surprised look cross Sirius' face, "How did you–"

"Go."

Sirius bit the corner of his lip, "But–"

"Go," she repeated gently for the third time, interrupting him yet again, "I'll be fine."

With a grateful nod, Sirius' grey eyes grew steely before he too, vanished amongst the sea of witches and wizards that moved like a shoal of fish in the sea, coordinated and moving en masse.

The very second Ariana was left alone, a middle-aged woman, one that wore a curious dress which design resembled the feathers of a hyacinth macaw, instantly appeared by her side, the movement too fluid to be just a coincidence.

"Excuse me, young lady."

Ariana blinked twice before slowly looking up at the stranger that addressed her. Before she could say anything, the older woman had already continued speaking.

"Forgive me for asking so bluntly," she started brightly with a smile that almost seemed too friendly, "But you _are_ Lady Peverell, the last descendant of the ancient Peverell bloodline, are you not?"

Ariana froze in panic for a millisecond at the sudden question, the cogs and gears in her mind began to engage at the speed of lightning.

 _How did she know?_ She thought in panic. _How does anyone know about me? I should have never come here. It's way too dangerous for me. What was I even thinking?_

She quickly banished her negative thoughts and adopted an amiable look on her face, "That is indeed me," she started politely, getting ready some of the many fake narratives she had rehearsed with Albus the in past, "Since you already know who I am, may I as to enquire who you are?"

The older witch tittered unattractively before giving a wave of her hand, "You must forgive my manners," she simpered, "Lady Isabel Parkinson is what they call me."

Ariana narrowed her eyes and recognized the faint traces of Pansy Parkinson in the facial features woman in front of her – the pug nose and flat forehead a dead giveaway – before forcing a smile onto her face, "Apologies for not recognizing such an esteemed member from the Sacred Families, Lady Parkinson" she replied in a respectful tone, "I hail from Scotland after all."

Lady Parkinson's eyes grew subtly calculating, "Oh?" she exclaimed in faux surprise, "I see you've lost your Scottish accent rather quickly then. Such dedication to assimilate, I say."

Ariana internally squirmed as she quickly thought of ways to end the conversation as soon as possible, "My father and mother, Iapetus and Tethya Peverell respectively, were of British origin and raised me in isolation in the Outer Hebrides," she lied cheerfully, "I never had an accent to begin with."

" _But you can speak their language, can you not?"_ Lady Parkinson suddenly burst out in Scottish Gaelic.

Ariana's eyes widened by a fraction before she quickly returned to her calm countenance, strangely in firm control over her emotions, " _Yes, I do. Although not the best, I can get by,"_ she replied confidently in the same language, thanking Merlin himself that she had practiced Gaelic her spare time to prepare for rare scenarios such as this one.

Lady Parkinson gave a harrumph of what seemed like disappointment before peering down and scrutinizing the young girl.

Ariana could see something dangerous shift within the other witch's eyes.

"It's undeniable that the weather here this time of year is simply exquisite, no?" Lady Parkinson said as she abruptly changed the subject, gesturing to the window with an elegant twirl of her hand.

Ariana felt her heart speed up a little from the seemingly innocent question.

"England is indeed lovely in the summer," she agreed slowly, dragging out her sentence as she quickly thought on potential routes this conversation was going to take.

"Is that one the reasons why you have moved here from the frigid mountains of Scotland," Lady Parkinson followed up in an innocent tone, "Or are you just here temporarily for your education?"

"After my parents passed away last year," Ariana replied without pause, a sad tone colouring her voice, "My guardian decided it was best for me to move back to my parent's original birthplace until I reach legal adulthood."

"Oh, poor dear, you have my condolences," Lady Parkinson responded in an equally fake tone of sympathy.

The elegantly dressed lady then gave a loud hum and tilted her head to the side in what seemed like extreme confusion, "Hold on, that's rather odd," she said with a perplexed tone, "My husband is one of many which deals with international transactions for Gringotts and only last week, he told me that there had been no significant financial dealings with the the Pure-bloods from Scotland in the last year."

"A mistake in the paperwork, perhaps?" she added in casually off-hand manner as her eyes glanced back down and pierced through the young witch.

 _What is this viper even trying to achieve?_ Ariana furiously thought as the pleasant smile twitched imperceptibly on her face.

"Lineal consanguinity means less to a witch in Scotland than it does in England," she shrugged casually with an air of nonchalance, "I never received any inheritance and I was never told where it went to."

Irritation flashed briefly through Lady Parkinson's eyes as she gave another harrumph of disappointment at the concise yet at the abrupt end in the conversation.

She snatched a glass of champagne from the platter of a passing butler, its liquid iridescent and shimmering as she stylishly swirled it around in her hand. There was something off with the pretty and well-dressed child in front of her. She was clearly an educated adolescent, but spoke and acted far beyond her age – albeit not unusual for the progeny of prominent Pure-bloods.

The elegant lady took a sip of the liquid, moaning in satisfaction when she recognized the taste of the ever-elusive _Krug Clos d'Ambonnay_ , a divine nectar made from the juices of special black grapes found only in the _Chaudes Terres_ and the _Clos Saint-Jacques_ vineyards in Ambonnay, France. As she savoured the ambrosia in her mouth, she realized that was still a route left open that could still yield unto her the answers she was looking for.

"Your parents probably never told you this," Lady Parkinson said with a lowered voice as she leaned in conspiratorially, "But I was extremely close friends with your father in his youth. He probably kept it a secret because…"

 _Lair, those people don't exist._ Ariana thought contemptuously as she kept the warm glued smile glued to her face, half-listening to a fake but beautifully convincing story that was ever so subtly designed to elicit emotionally charged answers.

As the older witch was rambling on, Ariana felt the hairs on her neck stand up as her mind suddenly kicked into overdrive, her instincts screaming as loud as they could at her. The feeling only intensified as she surreptitiously glanced around the room in search of whatever was setting off alarm bells in her head.

This was the exact moment where Ariana knew something seemed very, very wrong. Throughout the entirety of her time in this ballroom, she had been experiencing a rather odd, constricting feeling, a feeling that she was being slowly smothered by a blanket, a feeling that would have never bothered her in her previous life.

She realized that people were staring at her.

No, this type of shameless scrutiny didn't include the usual gazes, the ones of hero worship and jealously, of adoration and hostility, of reverence and derision. While some observed her with the gaze of a stranger, bearing aloof judgement that held no strings, others gazed upon her with impartial affection, smitten by either the new face she possessed or the grace she exuded.

These however, quickly proved to be the exceptions.

The rest of the observers carried only cold eyes that pierced her from every angle like razor-sharp knives, some of them stationary while some circled her like vultures, harbouring a look of strange hunger that was ever-present in their dark irises. This scrutiny continued even though some were caught staring, unrepentantly appraising her budding adolescence as if it were the most desirable item at an auction, a vernissage of flesh and blood.

Ariana throat went dry as she finally figured out what was happening, her breath now coming in short breaths as her oesophagus unconsciously tightened, making every lungful of air felt as if she were inhaling ash instead. Just when she thought the situation couldn't get any terrifying, her roving eyes randomly locked onto a portly middle-aged wizards' that had staring directly at her ever since she had entered the room.

This man was different from all the rest of them. His eyes were neither cordial, cold, calculating nor curious, but instead held something else entirely. An ugly look that could only be described when one gazes down upon an especially delicious piece of meat, a rapacious leer that betrayed one's intentions and promises, of which _none_ were noble.

She wanted to tear her eyes away, but her body was paralyzed in a new kind of fear she had never experienced before. The hideous wizard gave a small start when he realized that their eyes had met, but quickly recovered as he pulled his mouth into a grotesque grin that stretched from ear to ear. Eyes that could only belong to a monster in human flesh beckoned to her as he licked his lips, as a predator would to prey.

Goosebumps erupted across Ariana's body, laminating her pale, naked skin under the soft silk of her dress from the sight. That action was the tipping point, she couldn't take it any longer. Her instincts screamed at her to leave this unholy place and never come back.

Without a word to Lady Parkinson – who was still talking and didn't realize that her audience had become inattentive – she suddenly turned on the spot and bolted the opposite direction of the gazes to the other side of the room as fast as she could, her feet moving by themselves, running past tables, chairs, wizards and witches as she made for a door at the end of the ballroom.

When she reached her destination and forcefully burst through silver-gilded doors – which were thankfully unlocked – a gust of fresh air immediately hit her face and stopped her mad dash. Quickly closing the doors behind her, she looked around and realized that she was standing on a small balcony that overlooked the grounds of the summer mansion, it's semi-circular shape bereft of any furniture or décor apropos to the event.

Ariana placed a hand upon her thumping chest to catch her breath as she leaned backwards heavily onto hard silvery wood, subconsciously barricading the door with her small body to deny anyone entry into her temporary sanctuary. Her head lolled backwards as the murmur of people and the tinkling of glasses all but vanished, her eyes growing glassy as she stared upwards into the blue sky, her mind trying to untangle itself from webs of thoughts that overlapped and crossed each other in a jumbled mess.

 _What... just happened?_ She thought with a shiver as she rubbed her strangely cold arms, the goosebumps on her skin refusing to lessen even under the warm rays of the sun that shone from the cloudless empyrean above.

As her mind then did what it did best – ruminate, the mellow sound of chirring crickets and tittering thrushes that flitted about on a midsummer's English morning instilled a sense of catharsis within her, soothing her as the tranquil sounds of nature washed over her in delicate waves.

Ariana was on the verge of completely calming down, but flinched at the very last second as she registered some movement out of the corner of her eyes.

 _What?! I was sure I was alone…_

Turning her head rapidly, she spied a man casually leaning against the balustrade of the balcony, his face hidden by a silver mask on his face that resembled a snarling wolf – clearly a participant of the masquerade. What Ariana's eyes were instantly drawn to however, was the mass of flowing brown hair that curled past the silver vizard that hid his face, and his perfectly sculpted arms that almost glowed in the light.

The mysterious man took a single step forward.

"We finally meet… _Ariana_."


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 27**

Ariana's scar twitched, ever so slightly.

"How odd," she huffed crossly as she folded her arms across her chest in discontentment, her manners slightly off kilter from the strange familiarity that everyone was displaying towards her, "It seems as if all the people here already know who I am."

The masked wizard gave a mysterious chuckle, a rich and soothing sound that was carried far and wide in the warm wind that curled and swept past the them, before giving an apologetic bow of his head from the sight of the pouting girl.

"Forgive my brusqueness, Lady Peverell," he began in charming voice as he knelt down on one knee and reached out with a gloved hand to take one of hers gently in his, "But it is unbecoming for one to ignore the belle of the ball, no?"

Ariana blinked twice before she realizing his statement was directed at her, "P-Please sir, just call me Ariana," she managed to stutter, internally cursing a hue of crimson that delicately graced her face against her will from the overflowing abundance of charisma, "And… and may I inquire as to who you are?"

The masked man gave an attractive grin as he stood back up, dusting his robes dark, glossy robes dramatically with one hand, "Ah, now that would defeat the purpose of the masquerade, no?" he replied with a perfect smile as he tapped the side of his silver vizard, one which was absent of eyeholes and only covered the upper half of his face.

The image of a snarling wolf embossed onto its surface was baring its sharp teeth so convincingly that Ariana felt a vicarious thirst for blood rise up within her at the mere sight of it.

 _Obviously, the mask's enchanted in some way._ Ariana thought to herself with interest as she chewed her lip, stealthily put up a precautionary Occulumency shield to protect the lower levels of her mind in the process; a weak shield – but possessing just enough power to stymie the effects from the odd-looking mask.

All of a sudden, she noticed a book that was balanced precariously on the balcony's balustrade, obviously belonging to the wizard in front of her. All her cautionary behaviour went out the windows as childlike curiosity filled her being – as always – when she recognized the title of the book from the inscription on its red velvet cover.

"Oh… I know that book!" Ariana exclaimed excitedly, pointing to it.

The masked man turned on the spot and elegantly snatched the said book up before the wind could claim it as its own, turning back and tilting his head to the side after, "Truly?" he replied with a hidden tone of amusement, the single word mellifluous enough to cause her ears to tingle.

Ariana nodded eagerly in response, " _De tranquillitate animi,_ written by Seneca in 62 AD. It's one of my favourite books of all time," she chatted brightly and without pause, her guard lowering as she leaned closer, "So, which part are you up to?"

The masked man became silent for a few seconds as he observed the spirited child, seemingly thinking the current situation over and not moving not a single muscle in the process. Before anything else could be said, one of his arms suddenly waved lazily in the air, invoking the magic of conjuration as two luxuriously looking chairs appeared out of thin air. After gesturing to the young witch to sit – of which she hesitantly complied, he then took residence in the seat he conjured up for himself.

"To answer your question," the masked man started smoothly as he settled down in the comfortable chair, his voice cutting effortlessly through the air as a knife would butter, "I've just finished reading through the chapter where Seneca details the eristic nature of Plutarch's syllogisms."

Ariana's eyes lit up in recognition, the jet-black curls of her hair bouncing hypnotically under the golden rays of the sun as she moved her head, "Ah yes… Plutarch, the literary genius from ancient Greece," she chirped as her eidetic memory kicked in, recalling the exact contents of the manuscript she chanced upon one night in the Room of Requirement, "My favourite section by far is when he paraphrases the famous muggle warlord, Alexander the Great. I think it goes like this."

" _Upon hearing that there were other worlds…_ "

"… _Alexander wept, for he had not yet conquered one,"_ the masked man softly interrupted.

The two then sat in contemplative silence and stared as each digested the other, the masked man appraising the precocious child that sat across him, and the young witch assessing the obvious polymath, who was also clearly a refined member of the gentry – evidence enough by his genteel mannerisms.

"Isn't the phase beautiful?" Ariana breathlessly asked, the first to break the silence as a radiant smile blossomed across her face, looking down onto a glorious expanse of grass and meadow flowers from her vantage point, the verdant swathe rustling gently en masse in the summer breeze.

 _I can't describe it. He feels so… painfully familiar somehow._

 _I wonder if it's rude for me to ask him to take off his mask…_

"What aspect of it do you find so enchanting?" the masked man asked curiously, his voice snapping her out of her thoughts as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forwards seemingly in rapt attention.

A wistful look took over Ariana's pretty face, "To believe in worlds other than the one we currently reside in," she replied dreamily as she tilted her head at him, "Doesn't the thought of it just _exhilarate_ you?"

To her surprise, her words only made the masked man stiffen in what looked like surprise… or was it fear?

* * *

Voldemort took a deep breath as he calmed his nerves down, his muscles slowly loosening as one.

 _So, this is the fabled Child of Flame, one whose soul is beloved by the Fates._

 _The one whom is also referred to as…_

… _ **the**_ _ **Calamity**_ _._

The words of the wise Elders he had once convened with somersaulted its way to the top of his mind as he watched the vivacious young witch before him continue to chatter, gesturing and moving her body to match her spirited words as she chatted away to her heart's content, oblivious to his inattentiveness.

"I sense no 'great power' within this child," he murmured under his breath in confusion, the silver vizard on his face hiding the look of uneasiness that crossed it, "Did I misinterpret what the Centaurs told me, perchance?"

He then focused inward as he brought back a deep, well protected memory of when he leaned one of the many prophecies spoken only in hushed whispers amongst the Elders, repeating the words he learned that night once more in his head.

 _The loyal servant, soon, will slaughter his master,_

 _the handmaidens turn on their leader and king;_

 _a daughter will rise – against her own mother,_

 _a son – against his father's name._

 _Under a blood moon, the madness will descend;_

 _and all that remains of the world will be a kindling of fire;_

 _Ash – to ash returns._

 _Soul – ascends to soul._

Voldemort's fists tightened in anger from the ambiguity of the beasts' prophecies, knowing full well that although they were harder to decipher than the prophecies Seers would normally create, they were notably more accurate once interpreted correctly. This prophecy, the one which foretells the end of the world, was particularly worrying.

"It mentions a _blood moon_ ," he muttered audibly to himself, a thousand and one questions burning bright within him, "It obviously refers to the 'lunar tetrad' phenomenon – where the moon turns red during one of the four lunar cycles. However, only seven ever occurred in the past century. How can I even begin to predict the next one's exact date?"

"Then, who is the _servant,_ and who is the _master_?" he continued under his breath as he switched his train of thought, unable to stop his mind from conjuring up new theories and scenarios with each passing second, "The _daughter_ obviously refers to the girl before me… but then who is her mother? Who is the _son? Leader_ and _king_ … is that a reference to the old fool that sits atop Hogwarts? Why is…?"

Voldemort was a being of higher learning, an erudite almost unparalleled in his respective fields thanks to decades of research, experimentation and polemics in the way of the ancient and Old. However, all his prowess over logic and reasoning failed him now as the stubborn riddle that were the prophecies themselves refused to prostrate and reveal their secrets before him.

Rapid movement out of the corner of his eyes abruptly interrupted his quiet mutterings as he realized that a small hand was waving frantically in front of his face. Able to see it clearly through his mask, which was also enchanted to hide his magical signature and subtly modulate his voice, he lifted his head up in acknowledgment, glancing amusedly upon the person the offending article was attached to.

"Sir, did… did I by any chance say anything that offended you?" the Child asked in visible nervousness after she retracted her arm, obviously perturbed by his inactivity as her large green eyes gazed worriedly at him.

Voldemort continued to be silent as he gazed upon her, thinking extremely carefully about what course of action should he take henceforth regarding this young witch before him. Brown, desiccated leaves scudded across the rough balcony floor and took small flights into the air, dancing together in union akin to a ballerina performing a graceful pirouette. It took a while before the transient breeze settled back down into quiescence, but when the leaves slowly fluttered back down onto the grey granite that called the floor their home, the Dark Lord's ruminations finally came to a decisive end.

"Who do you think controls the Wizarding World?" he suddenly questioned, the abruptness of the change in topic and the loudness of his voice causing the Child to jump slightly in surprise.

The young witch's eyes lit up beautifully when she realized she had finally elicited a response and scooted back to her chair that had been conjured for her, plopping herself back down on the seat with alacrity.

The Child then tapped her lip lightly with a slender finger as her eyes looked off to the side thoughtfully, dissecting the question in her mind. She gave a small frown at the obviousness of the answer, "It's surely either the Minister of Magic… or to some degree, Wizengamot?" she replied in uncertainty.

"Wrong," Voldemort replied calmly, scoffing internally at her naivety as he gestured in the direction of the ballroom, one which contained all the Pure-blood families from the Sacred Twenty-Eight celebrating the coming-of-age celebration, "It is _them_. The outcome of every political action, every plebiscite, every referendum, is ultimately decided by _them_. Taxation, policies, promotions, trading laws and all others of their ilk, are all borne of _their_ design."

Before the young witch could even open her mouth to reply, he had already fired off another question.

"Now, imagine this hypothetical scenario," he started casually, the coolness of his attitude a stark juxtaposition next to the momentous claim he had lain down, "If all the Pure-bloods in that particular room were to suddenly… _vanish_ off the face of the Earth, what do you think will happen to the Wizarding World?"

The Child's had grown nervous from questions that called to a higher school of thought. A school that only those serious about changing the constitutional status quo would attend with ardour. Her eyes were darting about as her mind worked overtime, "If... If what you say is true, the Minister of Magic then will finally hold power," she enunciated slowly, "With it, he or she can then allot manpower–"

"You think too small," Voldemort cut in, waving a hand in the air expressively, "Come, let's start with basic economics."

"If all the Pure-bloods are gone, that means all the wealthy elite are gone. If so, where then do our taxes come from? Do we force them out of those who carry financial instabilities? Do we borrow from other magical communities? Do we plunder and loot? Answer me young one, what do we do?"

The Child chewed her lip before answering, "I think the first step would be to borrow–"

"That was a trick question," Voldemort interrupted coolly once he realized he wasn't getting his answer.

"Do you really think the rich in the room next to us – though purportedly known for their largesse – actually pay taxes?" he sneered, "Did I not mention the cabal which really controls the legislation within this country?"

"Why do you think our cracked streets are blackened from grime and soot, sweat and blood? Why do you think our apothecaries and warehouses are disused, abandoned and rotting? Why do you think our market is grossly inflated and illiquid? Why do you think our closest allies, Ireland and Scotland, do not trade with us of late? Why do you think our banks try to hide from the public the rising number of 'toxic' debts and assets?"

"We are nothing as we are right now, a shell of our former selves," he continued bitterly, "The current Wizarding World is lost to us. It's once lush and fertile lands are now diseased, decaying… _dying_. And the reason for that–"

" _NO_ ," the Child near shouted as she interrupted him, her voice unnaturally bright as she suddenly stood up.

"It… It will get better," she continued as her voice quietened down in volume, speaking powerfully – as if speaking the absolute truth, "As long as we work hand in hand with the Muggle-borns that are starting to integrate with our society, we can flourish in years to come."

"We _will_ flourish."

Her large sea-green eyes glowed bright, even under the mid-morning sun, gleaming with such an intensity that even the great Voldemort himself physically rocked back a little from her powerful gaze. He collected himself and leaned forward once against, this time with heightened interest as the beginnings of a smirk curled upwards at the corner of his lips.

 _You hide many secrets, Child._

 _For instance, why is your mind linked to mine? Why can't I find any information about you or your past? Why are you part of the prophecies? Why any of this at all?_

Voldemort gave a soft snort in amusement, realizing that the more he thought about answering the questions he had at the tip of his tongue, the more it gave rise to other questions.

 _Regardless of the countless truths and untruths that surround your anomalous existence, all shall now be revealed._

 _Your mind is_ _ **mine**_ _to witness._

The Dark Lord readied himself. On the off-chance that the young witch was trained in the art of defending the mind, he decided to use a low-powered mind invasion method, one which could only work on the mind of a lesser beast… or a child's. Needing not a spell or incantation for this unique method, he slipped quietly into her mind, breezing past a rather sturdy-looking first line of defence – already impressed that someone so young could already create this.

Pushing past the emotions she felt on the surface, her burning curiosities about him, her limitless intrigue about his questions, her endless wonderment about his answers, he arrived at the layer in the mind of where he wanted to be: her old memories. Without a second thought, he plunged inwards through the mist.

At first Voldemort thought he was dreaming as a fog wrapped around him like a blanket, almost tangible, suffocating and shrouding everything in a thick white veil. He almost pulled out of her mind in shock once he realized what was happening.

 _Does this girl… not have any memories of her past?_ He thought in complete amazement.

Deciding that this was not some kind of trickery after a few more seconds of rooting about in her mind, he pulled his consciousness back into his own body, leaving the rest of her mindscape intact and untouched. It seemed as if a few minutes had elapsed but in reality, time had slowed down to a crawl: only a couple of seconds had passed.

The Child it seemed, was blissfully unaware of the mental intrusion as she was still talking away, donning a flushed and energized face in the process.

"…and from what you've been talking about, I'm guessing that you're aiming for a position with political influence… the Minister of Magic perhaps?"

Voldemort blinked once as he registered what said, catching only the last few sentences. After a second, he gave a loud laugh, a rich and melodic tune that played across a few octaves in an instant, before calming himself and settling back down into comfortable passiveness.

"Young lady, you're too clever for your own good," he complimented with a warm smile, his mask hiding the undiluted amusement in his eyes when he saw the young witch try to hide the blush which spread across her face,"Posters, newspapers and all others of their ilk shall soon have both my face and name plastered across them, it shall be hard to miss my coming," he finished cryptically.

The sight of the embarrassed Child then stirred something deep within Voldemort's soul. Something that had been kept locked away for decades, beating upon the rusty cages of his heart, the prison of which he himself built to kept it there. He soon realized that he was strangely… _enjoying_ himself, just by simply being in the mere presence of the Child. He had no clue why, but it felt as if his soul was singing in harmony – as if meeting a long-lost friend, a melody that purred into the murky depths of his soul, piercing through and engulfing him from within.

The Dark Lord grit his teeth in anger at the foreign feeling that pervaded his body and quickly slammed down an Occlumency shield. After a few seconds, the strange sensation disappeared as quickly as it came.

"T-that's only because you made it easy for me, sir," the Child stammered in response as the flush of her cheeks lessened, completely unaware of his odd episode.

She suddenly stopped talking as her face then took on a slightly pinched look, her large eyes drifting to the side as they glazed over.

Voldemort then forgot about the weird feeling he had just experienced and raised an eyebrow in curiosity at a rather odd spectacle that was unfolding before his very eyes. The young witch had closed her eyes fully and was starting to repeatedly pat the sides of her head in what seemed like extreme annoyance as she muttered something under her breath. After a few seconds she froze, only to open her eyes and carry on as if nothing had happened.

"Anyway," the Child resumed, speaking with a little more confidence now, "To be willing to carry the burden of so many atop your shoulders, it is a most commendable endeavour – for that path only leads to sorrow and solitude," she paused and gave him a fleeting look of admiration, "But I sense that you have what it takes to become the Minister of Magic. You have the drive, the mindset, and you seemed to have planned this whole thing out from start to finish."

Voldemort turned away and looked off into the distance to hide the pleased smile on his face, gazing down upon the swathe of greenery as the sun shone down from its zenith in the sky – signalling that noon was nigh.

"Precocious brat," he murmured under his breath before giving a small chuckle, "You speak with wisdom far beyond your years."

He then whirled around to face the young witch, displaying only coolness and calmness in light of what was said, "So, you agree with me then that the Wizarding World needs to be… _revamped_?" he almost sang, gaily and into the wind.

The Child gave an earnest nod, "From your words, I've only just realized that everything about the current system is… is… _poison_ ," she emphasized passionately after finally finding the word best to describe it, "The inequalities, the cronyism, the pathetic excuse of our judicial system, the tax evasions, the complete absence of a _Laissez-faire_ system, the way women are abused, the ostracization of magical races, and even the way they treat those guilty as seen by the law – where witches and wizards can be thrown straight into Azkaban... sometimes without a trial," her chest heaved heavily as her small figure trembled.

At the mention of Azkaban, Voldemort noticed with mild interest that her hands were suddenly clenched tightly in a show of poorly suppressed anger. He gave a low hum and opted to stay silent as she unclenched them after a few seconds, intent to let her finish her emotional diatribe.

"How could I have been so blind," the Child ranted, an upset look marring her the delicate features on her face, "I've always known the Ministry was corrupt, but never seriously given any thought to it. I was so foolish, just like the rest of the Wizarding world, thinking that brute force and the person in charge – the Minister – has the power to change anything. No, the fault within this broken system lies solely with one group: _the oligarchy of Pure-bloods._ "

Voldemort couldn't help himself; he gave a loud clap.

He couldn't deny it: he was thoroughly impressed. What took weeks and sometimes months for his Death Eaters to fully understand even with rigorous re-education, this young girl had figured out on her own in under a mere hour.

This, was one new development he could not ignore.

"Don't you worry, Ariana. Once I'm in charge, their little cabal will get what's coming to them," he promised as he moved towards her and knelt to her eye level, "When they in band together in terror against me, neither their silver nor their gold will be able to save them from my wrath," he whispered, his voice turning soft and dangerous.

A fleeting look of cruelty flashed across his face, "Them... and _the others,_ of course," he added with emphasis, the mere thought of Muggle-borns desecrating their sacred society sending a wave of rage coursing through his veins.

"The... others?" the young witch echoed, a puzzled look planting itself on her face.

"A story for another time," Voldemort returned as his anger returned to a level state, prevaricating as he waved a dismissive hand in the air.

The Child's eyes were burning bright with passion as she came back to the main point, "Don't worry sir, in the next election I will be convincing everyone I know to vote for you," she vowed, gazing into the mask of the silver wolf, somehow knowing that the wizard could see her as clear as day through it, "And I pray that your campaign will be heard throughout all the four corners of the Wizarding World. They need to know the truth."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow at the bold statement, "You know neither my name nor the face that lies beneath my mask," he challenged, "How would you know who to support?"

The young witch shrugged, the action causing her resplendent violet dress to rustle ever so slightly under the warm rays of the sun.

"I will know," she simply replied, gazing fearlessly into the savage snarl the wolf bore on his mask.

The corners of Voldemort's lips upwards against his will.

 _You, Ariana Peverell, are a most curious creature._

The Dark Lord gave a soft snort and was about to stand up and leave, for his business here was on the cusp of its conclusion, but froze mid-way as he spotted something out of the corner of his watchful eyes: a very light burn mark beneath an odd-looking bracelet the Child wore on her left wrist.

He leant forward with one arm outstretched in with the intent to examine the injury but paused at the very last second, as every single instinct in his body _screamed_ at him to stop. His arm started trembling against his will as his finger, which was a mere hairsbreadth away from her skin, refused to budge in the air.

Instinctively, he yanked his arm back with force and cradled it protectively before nosily clearing his throat, ignoring the quizzical look the young witch was giving him for his actions, "Child, would you let me perform a healing spell for your wrist?" he asked politely, refined in almost every manner.

The Child seemed surprised for a split second before mechanically lifting her wounded arm up to her face, "Oh!" she exclaimed cheerfully after realizing what he was talking about, "Don't worry, I can do it myself."

Time seemed to slow down for Voldemort as the young witch slowly brought up her other arm and shot out what seemed like a ball of light from her palm into the injured wrist; the skin magically healing completely from it. To a neophytic eye, the burst of luminance would seem white. But to him, it was an amalgamation of every single colour mankind could possibly imagine, all blended together harmoniously in a ball of scintillating, swirling starlight.

The Child turned as pale as chalk once she'd realized what she'd accidentally done in front of him. Her eyes and her mouth were frozen wide open in an expression of undiluted panic.

"T-That was just accidental magic," she cried out after she regained her senses, realizing that he had witnessed her display of underage magic, "It's nothing to–…"

Voldemort was not listening however, to whatever the young witch was saying. His pupils were dilated, his eyes were impossibly wide, and his breath came in short gasps as he almost forgot how to breathe, his entire being in total shock from the an oh-so familiar scent of magic that wafted over his being.

" _No,"_ he breathed, his eyes now darting around wildly for something specific unknown to the young witch that was currently agitated and spluttering.

"Where is it? _Where is your source?_ "

The Child's floundering stopped as her countenance turned into one of perplexity at the sudden change in mood and the seemingly bizarre question. His voice then grew more aggressive when she didn't answer immediately, his thought process accelerating to a terrifying speed.

" _ARIANA, WHERE IS YOUR SOURCE?"_

* * *

Ariana' scar twitched once again, but ever so slightly.

"S-Source… what do you mean source?" she squeaked in confusion, the synapses in her brain firing off rapidly as her mind hastily tried to reorganize itself.

She saw shock register across the masked man's face from her truthful response before he could hide it. He ignored her as he stumbled backwards with an almost tangible air of disbelief, choosing to sit back down as his hands then steepled and were placed upon his mask, the tenseness of his sculptured muscles signalling that he was very clearly in a state of distress.

"Um… sir?" Ariana timidly asked with a small voice as she got up from her chair, inching slowly closer.

It took a lot of effort for the young witch to pretend she was scared and nervous, for her brilliant mind had already somersaulted in joy as she had deducted that this mysterious wizard in front of her knew something about her secondary source of magic. The familiar way he referred to her 'white magic' – or so she calls it – could mean that he might just be the key to unlock at least one of the enigmas surrounding her new body that have been constantly hounding her day and night.

"Sir?" she repeated softly, padding softly across the balcony floor as she moved even closer to the masked wizard's still form.

Realizing that she was not going to get an answer for now from the sustained silence, she turned her thoughts inwards as she reviewed what had just occurred. As she replayed the scene in her mind, she gave a small start as her brain realized something else. She raised her healed wrist to her eye-level.

 _It's been a few months since my silver band has seriously burned me; I'd almost forgotten what it felt like._

 _Does… does this mean I'm getting better control over my magic?_ She realized with a gasp of joy, almost tempted to burst out in a celebratory jig in victory from just the mere thought of it.

Her elation was then interrupted as the masked wizard, whom she was sure was either Harold Minchum or Millicent Bagnold – the two Ministers who were in power from 1975 to 1990 – moved his hands away from his face and turned his head towards her.

"Child, do you know what is… _Old Magic_?" he murmured, his naturally smooth voice now flecked with hits of wariness and intrigue.

Ariana furrowed her brow as she contemplated the question, thinking of the many books she had read in the Room of Requirements and the Potter Library. Thanking her eidetic memory – another mystery she had yet to solve– that although she remembered chancing upon that specific phrase once or twice, it was never really explained in any of the ancient texts, manuscripts and tomes she had spent countless hours perusing through.

"No, sorry," she confessed with a small shake of her head, her stag and doe earrings sparkling under the midday sun as they swung to and fro, "Is that term related to curse breaking?"

"Not quite," the masked man answered in a low voice, his mannerisms and style of speech almost betraying his hesitance to continue the conversation.

A growing fear within Ariana's heart was then quelled as her new friend suddenly straightened his back as a charming grin spread across his face, a palpable sense of purpose visibly ignited within him.

"But somehow, I have this strange feeling that you want me to continue," he drawled loudly before giving an all-knowing hum, his mask tilting down to look at her in amusement as he recognized the hunger for knowledge that burned within her eyes.

Ariana had enough decency to look abashed when she realized her convincing act was instantly seen through.

 _Nothing at all escapes this wizard._ She thought with amazement.

 _He seems so knowledgeable, so determined, so…_ _ **passionate**_ _about everything._

 _I wonder… could I possibly convince him to join the Order?_

She hid a small giggle behind her hand at the boldness of her thought before refocusing on the patiently waiting wizard, whom had only met for a short while but was already accustomed to her quirks and quiddities.

"Yes, please sir."

The masked man nodded in response and stood up in one fluid motion. He then clicked his fingers and with a wave of nonverbal magic, the two ornamented seats that had given the pair comfort and poise throughout their conversation disappeared in a flash, causing a curious thrush that was resting on the balustrade to give an indignant squawk and take to the air.

"Stand by me, child," he motioned with an elegant wave of his hand.

As they approached the end of the balcony, they leaned against the cold hard stone, both of them relishing in the fact that both the distant clinking of wines glasses and murmur of gossip died into sweet nothingness.

"Now, before I begin," the masked man started as he gazed down at her face, "Can I trust that this information stays strictly between us?"

Ariana felt a slight pressure behind her eyes but dismissed the feeling as she nodded violently back, "Of course," she promised earnestly, her thirst for the truth trumping all other desires.

The masked man gave a look of approval and raised one finger elegantly in the air, the chiselled muscles of his body showing themselves through the fabric of his robe, "The lesson... begins," he began dramatically, his movements charismatic, purposeful and exact.

"Tell me Ariana, how does one cast a spell?" he started briskly, his pedagogic roots showing through as he adopted the tone of a cultured emeritus.

"Energy stored within a magical core is transmuted from one form to another according to the user's intent," the young witch replied immediately, the answer instantly popping to the top of her mind.

The masked man titled his head, "A very precise description," he acknowledged, "But perhaps too general; break it down into its respective processes."

Ariana's eyes glazed over for a split second, "A spell is a concentration of magical energy… which has been funnelled through our physical bodies," she replied slowly, "And stabilized through the usage of a wand."

"Excellent, this now leads on to the next question," he masked man replied in pleased tone as he clasped his hands together, "Can wizards and witches perform magic without the use of wands?"

"They can," came the reply without pause, "Wandless magic is not uncommon for those who persistently train or for those who are naturally gifted."

The sides of the masked man's lips curled up from the instantaneous answers, "Very well, now to tie those two questions together," he carried on, "Is it possible for one to cast a spell _without_ the use of both a physical body _and_ a wand _?_ "

Ariana's mouth opened and closed silently a few times like a fish as she deliberated the intriguing question. She scrunched her face in thought, her expressions all animated and spirited as she tried her hardest to come up with an answer.

"By… by tapping into the confluences of magical ley lines?" she guessed desperately, stabbing wildly in the dark once she realized that her mind for once had failed her.

"You're on the right track, child," the masked man encouraged soothingly, his charismatic voice flowing like warm honey into her ears, "To give you a clue, think about this. Apart from magical geoglyphs and megaliths, how else can magic manifest itself in the material world?"

Ariana's eyes grew wide when she remembered encountering one particularly troublesome scenario whilst exploring the depths of the restricted section in the Hogwarts Library the year before.

"Of course, _cursed books_ ," she gasped in recognition, "The author of a tome could imprint some of their magic into the pages with the intent to maim or kill the reader," she continued breathlessly.

A bewildered look then crossed her face, "But… but how is second-hand magic related to the one that lives within me?" she continued in confusion, looking downwards as she grasped tightly at her chest, crinkling the violet fabric violently as if to rend the secrets from her beating heart and display them for all the world to see.

The masked man wagged his finger at the impatience of his student, "Remember that magic imbued within physical objects are invariably one-dimensional. Their effects, whether harmful or beneficial, are always pre-ordained by the witch or wizard that casts the spell," he explained clearly, "Old Magic differs however, and is the only other source of magic out there that requires neither a wand nor a beating heart to use; allow me to elucidate."

He stood to his full height, all traces of warmth and levity vanishing from his face as he looked upwards at the brilliant star that shone down on him, his sun-kissed hands strangely clenching and unclenching. After a pregnant pause the masked man then looked back at Ariana and did something it seemed he was born to do: orate.

"In this world, there are some magics that even the greatest scholars cannot explain," he began strongly, gesturing dramatically as he spoke, "These phenomena are triggered by events and powers endemic to the fundamental forces of reality; for example, the disruption of the natural passage of time, attempting to raise legions from the dead, and to some extent, great acts of…" his lip curled in disgust, "… _sacrifice."_

Ariana's hand immediately jumped to the scar on her forehead but didn't interrupt the talking wizard as she stood there wide-eyed, absorbing information that she knew only few in this world were privy to.

"Studied extensively by the Department of Mysteries, the effects of Old Magic can range from near-impenetrable shields that safeguard against all types of magic – as proven from the skin of dragons and giants – to more unique side effects, such as the ability to see spirits. Additionally, there is a way to…" he wavered for a second before the line of his mouth morphed into a vicious grin, "… **claim** this magic for ourselves."

"By purposely committing acts that tear against the very fabric of nature itself, we can tap into this near limitless pool of magic and sequester it, either temporarily or permanently, inside special objects," he continued with an air of intensity about him, growing visibly more animated as he spoke, "Instead of petty curses and trivial hexes that wizards of yore would deposit within artefacts, we can store magic that _has a life of its own_ within physical items – as untameable as the roughest seas, and as powerful as the brightest sun."

"With the power to nullify or emit the most potent spells mankind has to offer, it is even able to stop the breath of the most ancient creatures alive: dragon fire," he carried on passionately, "It is a weapon like no other, a shield like no other… a magic like no other _._ "

"Succinctly put, Old Magic is magic drawn from the corruption of nature itself. The protean nature of its ineffable existence gives us a window into _creation_ _itself_ ," he finished solemnly, his voice dropping into a whisper at the end of his sentence.

At this point Ariana had couldn't help but to interrupt the elocutionist as her curiosities reached its critical limit, "Why isn't this taught to us in any of our classes?" she blurted out loud breathlessly.

The masked man gave an offhanded shrug, "Perhaps it is the very same reason why rituals and invocations aren't taught in school; the instability of their magical structures was considered too volatile for many," the masked man guessed.

Ariana gave a small, contemplative frown, "Even so, why isn't Old Magic part of our everyday magic then?" she reiterated emphatically, "And why have I never come across this topic before?"

"Well, apart from the fact that the Department of Mysteries actively confiscates all books related to that matter," the masked man explained patiently, "It is an ancient technique that has almost completely been lost to the sword of time; its arcane secrets are known only by a select few in the Wizarding world."

This only made the young witch more confused.

"If this information is so rare then… _why_? Why tell me, a stranger, any of this?" she pointed out in absolute wonderment as she tilted her head back to gaze at the enigmatic wizard.

A look of realization crossed the wizard's face before he could hide it. He turned his face away from her and stayed silent for a few seconds.

"I wonder that myself," he finally uttered, so quiet that it was almost lost against the wind.

"Now, back to you, Ariana," he carried on with a louder voice as he turned back to her, crouching down so they were both eye level, "Where are you drawing this power from? _Where is your source_?"

The poor girl was so overwhelmed by the mountain of information that she couldn't even respond coherently, the circuits in her brain overloading as thousands of hypotheses and theories thundered through her mind without any sign of stopping.

"I…I am… it is–"

"The dominant theory is that _you_ are the somehow the source itself," the masked wizard interrupted, talking mostly to himself as he struck up a contemplative pose, "Is it because… nature recognizes you as an anomaly? No, no… impossible…"

A beat of sweat trickled down the side of Ariana's head as she gulped nervously.

 _This wizard… he... he is getting too close to the truth._

"You could be mistaken you know," she said carefully, "Accidental magic is often–"

"Child, don't insult me," the masked wizard snapped, interrupting the young witch yet again but this time causing her to jump in shock from the first sign of anger he had displayed all day, "I know _exactly_ what I saw."

Ariana bowed her head and clasped her hands across her chest, "I'm sorry," she cried out in a quavering voice, strangely terrified for some reason from the sight of the angered wizard.

Through the transient darkness her jet-black hair provided as it tumbled down past her face, she soon heard a deep sigh through it that somehow sounded oddly old and young at the same time.

"My apologies, Ariana. It was not my intention to frighten you," the masked man murmured with a softer voice, "I only seek to liberate ourselves, from our wild curiosities."

Ariana peaked timidly through strands of midnight onyx and true to his word, the wizard had no signs of displeasure nor annoyance on the exposed parts of his face.

The masked wizard then continued in the same tone, "How poetically fitting, that the one with the power of Old should inherit the earth," he muttered absently.

Ariana made a noise of confusion in the back of her throat as she tilted her head.

The masked man ignored her as head turned skyward, looking directly into the celestial body that was sun and noting that it was directly above them, the absence of lengthy shadows heralding that it was the day's noontime.

"Alas, our riveting conversation must come to an end, as all good things must," he announced with an air of sorrow as a sombre smile graced his face, exuding only refinement and poise in his mannerisms.

"Farewell for now, Child."

Ariana blinked twice from the abrupt termination of their discussion, one which was almost reaching its crescendo.

The mysterious masked man's visage still gazing up at the blue empyrean above as he mumbled something under his breath, the noise sounding strangely sibilant before he vanished on the spot, not even waiting for a response as he left one young girl extremely confused behind with a million and one questions coursing through her mind, each imagined scenario more bizarre than the next.

To an observer, the masked man's final words would sound like an odd string of hisses, but in reality, it was spoken in a language only two people living on this mortal plane could understand. Unbeknownst to young Ariana, her mind was in such a disorganized state that her mind registered those words as English; adding one more mystery added to her already full list from the utterance of his _true_ parting words.

 _Ariana Peverell, the Child of Flame… the Calamity._

 _I wonder, what will you do when the time finally comes?_

 _Will you be the one to lead us to our salvation…?_

… _or to our complete destruction?_

* * *

 **A/N:** Foreboding prophecies, complex plans and ancient powers have finally come to light in these new developments. Stay tuned as they all unravel!

P.S. Love the continuous feedback. Thanks for reading!


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** Just a small update to let everyone know I haven't died yet!

P.S. Thanks for all the positive and kind comments!

P.S.S. A special thank you to every who pointed out small grammar mistakes. Time is not something I have a lot of, so I'm super grateful!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 28**

 _Some time later_

There was absolute stillness in the world.

The ever-present susurration of running water was all but absent; no liquid of any nature dripped nor flowed in the gloom of the room. No traces of heat were present to give rise to convection; the lack of moving air failing to provide an impetus to sway willowy stems of potted plants and their reniform leaves. No frog croaked; no warbler warbled; no cricket chirred – the violin that nature had so generously bestowed upon it was silent and unmoving.

"… _just a bit more…"_

A lone moonbeam shone softly down through a window and doused a young girl in an ethereal glow, its silver-white luminescence revealing that she was bent over a rather curious assortment of items that lay on atop a wooden table – a cornucopia of foodstuffs that consisted of uncooked vegetables, garden herbs, fresh tomatoes and all other kinds of raw edibles.

It could also be seen that this girl had been working laboriously through the early stages of the morning; a grim and determined look on her delicate visage and a tightly clenched fist that held a raised phial high in the air revealed that whatever she was doing, it was of the highest import.

The silence neither perturbed nor intimidated her, but somehow comforted her. It seeped into her every pore, almost causing a state of heighted drowsiness which resulted in a thick, near palpable effusion of tranquillity.

Truly, a silence like no other – a peaceful silence.

"… _almost done_ ," Ariana whispered under her breath, carefully tilting the transparent phial she was so tightly clasping, watching the dark liquid contained within steadily drip out drop by drop and dissolve into the food that lay before her with a soft hiss.

Today, her long mission was nearing its end, for her task was on the cusp of completion.

A wave of mental fatigue suddenly washed over her, her mind growing tired from constant and fastidious measurements of the unknown liquid exiting from its glassy confines. As a result, her mind absently wandered back to a memory that took place roughly three months ago, to a scene which would explain what all that she was doing in the empty kitchens of Godric's Hollow.

 _The candle breathed its light onto Albus' face in an arc of brilliant gold, the gentle glow showing only an unsmiling and serious countenance as his silhouette flickered against the tenebrous backdrop of his office._

"… _are you absolutely sure?"_

 _Ariana nodded back, "Yes, without a shadow of a doubt," she replied gravely, her expression matching his, "Charlus and Dorea Potter will die in exactly three months and ten days; I have seen their gravestones myself."_

 _Albus closed his eyes and pinched the top of his brow tightly before speaking, "How did they pass?"_

" _Dragon Pox."_

 _Albus' eyes opened in alarm as he looked back at the young witch, "No!" he gasped, "Not… Dragon Pox."_

 _An uneasy look flashed on his face as he stood up and started to pace around the room, the uneven gait of his stride betraying his feeling of disquietude. "Dragon Pox lies dormant within a person for several months before the symptoms suddenly manifest – it can turn fatal within days," he carried on with a worried face, "The only treatment we know of – Gorsemoor's Method – only has a twenty percent chance of curing the afflicted and in addition, can only be used once on a person."_

 _Ariana couldn't help but let out of noise of surprise at the reaction._

" _Hold on…" she said slowly as a look of unfeigned horror grew on her face, "…you don't have the cure for Dragon Pox yet?"_

 _Albus froze mid-step and violently whirled towards her, studying her with a look of intensity before it suddenly morphed into one of realization._

" _Oh, thank Merlin," he breathed in a tone of relief as he remembered that this young witch was from the future, the first signs of twinkling appearing in his heavenly blue eyes, "You know of the cure then?"_

 _The look of horror hadn't lessened from Ariana's face._

" _I... I think... it's…" she stammered in response as she furiously wracked her brain. She knew that the cure definitely existed twenty years in the future… but very soon realized that she possessed near to no knowledge of it at all._

" _I-I don't know," she finally cried out in a trembling voice as self-condemnation washed over her being in waves, "If… If only I paid more attention in my Potion's Classes I wouldn't–"_

 _Albus had already crossed the room and was kneeled down in front of her, both of his warm, age-worn hands squeezing gently on her shaking shoulders._

" _Do not blame yourself, Ariana," he murmured comfortingly, "Breathe. Take it slow. Take a step back and think – say the first thing that comes to your mind."_

 _Ariana took large gulps of air and calmed her breathing before returning once more to her memories._

" _The cure for Dragon Pox was… was…" she started tentatively as the cogs and gears in her brain stirred to life, actuated by the intensity of her will._

"… _created in November 1991!" she exclaimed loudly, grasping greedily at any slivers of knowledge that lazily floated around in her mind._

" _Well done, Ariana. Is there anything else?" Albus encouraged, hope rising within him as the young witch before him scrunched up her face in deep thought again._

" _It was also discovered by… by…"_

 _Ariana then looked upwards at the old wizard, her eyes lighting up in wonder._

"… _YOU!"_

 _Albus eyebrows rose high, "Did I now?" he asked in disbelief, and after receiving a vigorous nod in return, he adopted a pensive look, "Fascinating…" he murmured as he looked out of the window and away from the young witch, the new information electrifying his great mind._

 _As the wizard ruminated away, Ariana suddenly gave a gasp and started to wave her hands animatedly in the air, "Albus… Al… Al..." she spluttered breathlessly, trying to draw his attention back to her as an epiphany struck her head-on like a truck._

 _Albus gave a start from the burst of energy that out of the blue and refocused on a young girl that almost looked like she was having convulsions._

"… _yes?" he blinked._

 _Ariana put a small hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath from the paroxysm of excitement, "You… also published a book, called… 'The Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood' in the exact same year… as finding the cure for Dragon Pox," she wheezed, "D-Do you think they are somehow related?_

 _Albus' face grew calculating and stood back up, his legs moving by themselves as he started to pace around the office. Mumbling under his breath, his pacing steadily increased with each passing step until it nearly crescendoed into a run._

 _He then froze solid._

" _To stand on the shoulders of giants," Albus suddenly quoted with a hearty chuckle, not making a lick of sense to the young witch that looked up bemusedly at him, "Even if those shoulders are indeed my own from the future"._

 _His look then sobered as he looked down at the young witch. She seemed so... fragile where she sat. The image stirred the beginnings of a long-forgotten flame in the brazier of his heart, the kindling of fire seeking essentially to link his heart and his soul as one._

 _He then spoke with such intensity, such purpose, that even the Fates themselves quivered in ecstasy._

" _ **So let it be written… so let it be done."**_

Ariana's mind snapped back to reality after replaying the whole scene out in her head.

"Albus… I never doubted you for a single second," she whispered proudly into the dead of the night, wondering just how on earth was the wizard able to condense years of research into a mere month.

"This final batch should complete the treatment," she continued in an undertone, talking to herself to fill the empty silence, "After eight weeks of continual administration with this new, experimental potion, my grandparents should soon be as right as rain for many, many years to come."

With that utterance, she pulled the stopper over the see-through phial she was holding and corked it with a tight and careful twist, effectively to stop any unwanted leakage in case she needed it in an emergency – for Albus had only concocted one batch, the next would take another month to make.

"And with this, my grandparents' destinies are now their own," she murmured powerfully as she stowed the nearly empty phial into the folds of her clothes, turning her gaze towards the window, out and into the star-lit blanket of a midsummer's night sky.

 _They should be fine this time… right?_

* * *

Morning came swiftly for a young girl who had crawled tiredly back into the warm confines of her bed, for she'd fallen fast asleep after completing her routine task in the heart of the night, one action that she had stealthily repeated over the course of the last two months.

An expensive duvet wrapped around her body snug like a cocoon; a silk mattress and cool, velvety pillows that were thick and irresistibly soft replicated the feeling of resting on a gently billowing cloud.

Now _this,_ was a level of physical comfort she had rarely experienced before in her past life, and one which she now relished every single night in Godric's Hollow. Perhaps it was the first signs of peace in her strife-filled life when her ultimate goal temporarily shifted from saving the Wizarding world, to buying the most comfortable pillows she could find once she returned back to Hogwarts.

The cry of a rooster suddenly echoed through the air, abruptly waking her from her much-deserved slumber as the sound grated harshly on her heart and ears – nature's herald for the start of a new day.

Giving a loud yawn as she slipped out from under her toasty confines, she then sleepily stabilized herself once she was on her feet before padding over the cupboard to take her necessary toiletries to take to the bathroom to freshen up. She'd always been an avid believer of bathing before breakfast.

After showering and grooming herself, she exited a steamy bathroom with a much brighter look on her face. Making her way down to the stairs dining room, she suddenly stopped in the middle of the staircase as a sound that resembled a dying whale emanated from her stomach.

Her stomach demanded to be fed.

"There, there, little one," Ariana said in a comfortingly as she looked down, gently patting her groaning midriff with one hand, "There'll be soon be lots of tasty food in you. There's no need for that sort of–"

She suddenly froze and cut herself off as she felt a presence behind her.

"Don't worry dear, talking to yourself like that is completely normal," Lady Potter teased as she brushed past the frozen young witch and ruffled her freshly dried hair, sniggering on the inside at the embarrassed look that sprouted across the girl's face.

"I-I wasn't–"

"Wasn't what? Hmm?" Dorea interrupted, hiding a mischievous look on her face as she hummed questioningly over her shoulder, prompting Ariana to rush down the stairs after her towards the kitchens, spluttering excuses and waving her arms animatedly in the air.

Hence, the day started on a light note, a rather appropriate tone for the final day before the trio of schoolkids had to return back to Hogwarts for the new semester.

" _HOOPY!_ " Dorea called out loudly when the duo reached the bottom.

Silently appearing into existence, a male house elf promptly apparated before the older woman and gave a low and respectful bow upon hearing its master's summons.

"Yes, Lady Potter?" the creature wheezed after it raised its weather-beaten head back up, the raspiness and tiredness of its voice clearly indicating that it was in the final stages of its life.

"Ah – hello there, Hoopy," Dorea cheerfully greeted as she grabbed her wand off a nearby table, smirking when she heard Ariana's stomach give another mournful wail, "I'm pretty sure you know why I've called for you," she continued briskly, a causal flick her wand causing an apron to fly out from a nearby cupboard and tie itself neatly around her back.

She looked back down towards the waiting elf, "It's _breakfast_ time," she grinned fully, showing the full whites of her teeth.

Since it was the final day of the holidays, she had in her mind planned to make a special meal, one last breakfast, for she wouldn't see the children again for quite some time.

During the whole preparatory phase, Ariana helped the best she could with the cutting, grinding, dicing and boiling – which was not much, to her chagrin – but she kept the mood up of those around her with constant little jokes and witticisms. In absolute truth, she was only here to properly ensure the raw food and ingredients they were using was the very same ones she had doused with Albus' experimental potion the night before, as she had done nearly every single night as of late.

After one laborious hour it was complete, and the result was a wondrous sight to behold.

In the middle of the table sat a still warm loaf. The honey coating of the bread had charred ever so slightly but the crumb inside was soft and delicate. The faint aroma of crushed cinnamon scatted atop the home-made bread created an intoxicating enough stimulus to transport one back to happier times of plenty. Beside the loaf sat its companions. Poached and scrambled eggs, smoky mushrooms, crispy bacon, piles of fried potatoes, tureens of fresh fruit, elegant glasses of orange juice, and many more edibles beckoned ever so seductively to the starving young girl.

Such is the strength when Man and Beast work as one.

Though wizard and witch alike possessed house elves as literal slaves that were often tied to thraldom to specific bloodlines, the Potter household had always operated a bit differently from the rest of the magical world. Here, the Potter matriarch enjoyed working as one with the diminutive creatures.

"Oddly reminiscent of S.P.E.W." Ariana mumbled to herself as she stood back and watched the elves congratulate each other with excited squeaks and hugs, oddly missing the times when a certain bushy-haired girl endeavoured to have her then outrageous ideas promulgated throughout Hogwarts, "Hermione truly was a progressive girl for her time."

She then gasped out loud when her train of thought lead down to another school of thinking, one which she'd been stuck in a quagmire for quite some. As she thought deeper about it, she realized that now was the perfect time and with perhaps with this next act, she could gain a valuable ally.

As the house elves skipped back to the kitchens and the witches were setting the cutlery and plates down, Ariana casually slid up beside her middle-aged grandmother.

"Err, M-Mrs Potter," she started clumsily, fumbling with her words as she struggled to find the correct words to begin, not knowing herself where this conversation would take her.

"What do you think about the suffrage movement that the Muggles in British Parliament passed in 1928?" she spoke all in one breath, her voice subtly adopting an offhand manner.

Dorea let out a grunt of surprise at the question and paused in her actions. "You speak of… the _Equal Franchise Act_ of 1928, right?" the older witch replied slowly, her brow furrowing as she struggled to recall Muggle history, "The one which allowed Muggle women to take part in parliamentary decisions henceforth?"

Ariana nodded in affirmation, glad at least one Pure-blood had knowledge of things other than those magical related, "The very same. What do you think of it?" she repeated once more.

Dorea's eyebrows pinched together even further as she thought about it more deeply.

"It's… neither here nor there, my dear," she answered hesitantly after a couple of seconds, the tone of her voice clearly non-committal to the topic.

Ariana refused to let the conversation go, cementing her stance in the debate. "So, you think your opinion isn't important to you? That your voice holds neither strength nor influence? That your desires are worth nothing without the use of proxies?" she emphasized sharply, her voice tinctured with the first signs of defiance.

A baffled look sprouted across the older woman's face at the sudden and seemingly radical line of questioning. The Potter matriarch then collected herself and sighed, turning her head and looking out the window into the warm golden rays of the rising sun, her eyes glazing over as she processed each comment in her mind.

"We leave such… _trivialities_ to the men, my dear," Dorea finally declared with a soft voice, her words trailing slowly one after the other as if unwilling to take flight.

Ariana hung her head downwards as a shadow flashed across her eyes, her face pulling into a pained grimace at the statement that was just uttered, the answer the opposite of what she wanted to hear.

 _If I remember correctly, it will be many, many years from now before the equivalent act in Wizarding World will get passed. And even then, those new rules were never as effective as the ones the Muggles had created decades ago._

 _Also… during the First War, women of all statuses, even those at the top of the hierarchy, fell prey to Voldemort's dominance without question, for bondage itself was dictated within their very own laws._

 _Hmm, maybe if I…_

Her ruminations came quickly to an end as Dorea's voice floated down towards her, interrupting her train of thought.

"Ariana, do you know what the _Iron Curtain_ is?" the older woman said slowly, her midnight-black eyes turning slightly wary.

The said girl blinked twice and promptly shook her head, the terminology entirely new to her.

"The _Iron Curtain_ is as tangible as it is intangible, physical as it is ideological. In the Muggle world it is geopolitically represented by–" Dorea started but suddenly stopped mid-sentence after all she received was a confused countenance.

She quickly reminded herself she was talking to a twelve-year old. She then cleared her throat noisily as she tried to mentally bypass the air of an educated scholar the younger witch was currently exuding.

"To spare you the lengthy details on continental politics," she smoothly picked back up, "The Muggles of East and West Europe are as of this moment, split in half. It first began with the creation of a great Wall, a hideous amalgamation of barbed wire and concrete that denies anyone entry in or out, regardless of their circumstances."

"Quickly after it was built in Berlin, the Wall became some more than just a physical barrier: it became an ideological concept. Even to this very day, a wedge has been driven between the dividing factions of our once beloved continent, son pitted against father, mother pitted against daughter," she finished grimly.

"That's err… very interesting," Ariana replied unsurely, totally lost as she scratched her head, "I don't really understand it, but what does that have to do with the Wizarding world?"

Dorea gave a tired sigh, the first signs of crinkling appearing on her youthful face, "Because there is the same _Iron Curtain_ around the Wizarding World, but this time, an inflexible dichotomy between the cultures of those magical and all those non-magical."

Ariana pulled a sour face, "Wizards and witches have been saying that for centuries," she argued, "Why doesn't anyone do something about it? We surely can benefit from one another."

A haunted look flashed through Dorea's eyes, flickering too briefly however, for the other to catch. "I've tried," she simply replied with a shrug, "Many, many times. And through that, the Potter household has earned many enemies," she continued wearily before plopping down onto a nearby chair, "Our sordid culture is set in stone. Its foundations – indestructible, its nuances – immutable."

Ariana angrily blew out a breath of air and gave a deep frown that was seemingly directed to everyone and no one at the same time.

 _Nothing is_ _ **ever**_ _set in stone._ The young prodigy thought fiercely to herself.

"I… want to change everything," she then murmured almost inaudibly, so soft that it rivalled the susurrations of a gentle breeze.

Dorea cocked her head, for all she heard was a faint whisper, "Pardon?"

"I want to change everything," Ariana repeated in a louder voice, voice gaining momentum with each punctuated word.

" _Every. Last. Thing."_

The unquenchable hero complex that had always resided inside her fiery soul reared up once more within the young girl and perfused to every part of her body as she spoke, unaware herself that every jagged rock in her path was simply an opportunity to think harder, every setback merely a chance to develop new solutions.

The harder one worked for a better morrow, the nobler the outcome.

"I can almost see the fire that burns bright within you," Dorea murmured fondly as she unconsciously stood back up, her heart moving as she placed her hands Ariana's small shoulders, almost envying the unique aura of strength and compassion her young charge was radiating.

"At your age, most of my priorities were just about gossiping about the next boy or buying a new dress," she continued with a small chuckle, "Meanwhile, here you are, talking about things that would make those who sit atop the Wizarding World tremble in fear."

"The path you intend to walk down will not be easy. As I once did," she warned in full seriousness, "Influential and power-hungry wizards and witches that carry all manner of anachronistic ideals will bark behind your back, nip at your heels, and sever your tendons."

She knelt down on one knee so that they were both eye level, "But know this, my dear. You'll find an ally in the Potters yet," she whispered solemnly as she leaned in and rested her forehead upon the young girl's.

" _No matter where your ventures take you_."

They held the pose for a full minute before Ariana silently broke contact and skipped back up the stairs to wake the three other members of the household for breakfast, her radiant smile revealing that she had found her first ally in a battle that was to be not decided by the clashing of swords or the howling of wolves, but by the first spark of rebellion, of defiance… of courage.

The wheels of Fate begin to turn once more, spinning ever so furiously as it struggled to keep up with a child whose impact on reality was bigger than one could ever possibly imagine.

And thus, the last breakfast started.

It was almost impossible to feel grumpy on that fine morning, for Ariana's chipper attitude had infectiously spread to the rest of them, a continued event without harshness or strife.

Lord Potter gave a satisfied pat on his rounded belly once he had finished his plate and leaned back heavily into his chair. Just as he was about to start the second phase of the feast for the morning, a warm cup of tea, he noticed out of the corner of his eyes, two piercing eyes that had, and still were, scrutinizing his every move for some unknown reason.

"Is there something on my face, Miss Peverell?" he asked curiously, absently noting some shock appearing on his young guest's face once she realized that she'd been caught staring.

Ariana gave a small cough of embarrassment before putting on a display of mock-thoughtfulness. "It must be my imagination, Mr Potter," she started slowly, tapping her chin in an additional show of contemplation, "But your face used to look quite err… pale. However, in the past few weeks, you're looking quite… healthy?" she finished almost quizzically, tilting her head to one side innocently.

Charlus raised his eyebrows, "You're quite the observant young girl, Miss Peverell," he boomed loudly with an impressed nod, the characteristic loudness of his voice reverberating around the room, "Truth be told, I've been feeling rather under the weather for the past month or two," he then revealed to those attentive at the table, "Fortunately, I've been getting a lot better. There's no need to worry since it doesn't feel as if it's anything serious–"

"Yes?" Sirius piped up instantly, obviously not listening to a single thing that was being said as there was still half-eaten food in his mouth, on his plate, and in both of his hands.

Groans and lilting laughter circulated around the table at the sight of the hilariously confused teenager, which in turn caused him to grin madly at the scene even though he had no idea what was going on.

The gentle undulations of merriment soon died down to a peaceful lull, the sound of wayward spoons banging against glass and mellow chatter a welcome change after the sudden burst of excitement in the calmness of the morning.

As morning waned into of the early stages of the afternoon, something peculiar then happened which Ariana did _not_ expect. Something so traumatic, so life-changing, that she'd most certainly never forget it in the never-ending passage of time.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 29**

Ariana carefully shut the wooden door behind her, the lock of the sizeable structure emanating a satisfying click as it ensured the privacy for the ensuing event, one of which was taking place in the middle of the sweltering summer afternoon.

When she was then beckoned over by an older woman that was sitting on her bed, she noted curiously upon drawing closer that the other's face was contorting slightly, as if intensely debating about something in her own mind of a topic unknown. After settling down comfortably beside the other woman and receiving only silence after what seemed like an eternity, Ariana couldn't help but voice her concerns at the odd situation.

"Mrs Potter, are you okay?" she blurted out breathlessly, "Is there something you need me to do–"

"Thank you for your concern, my dear," Dorea interrupted calmly, slightly jumping as the sound of a foreign voice broke her out of her own mindscape, "But there's nothing to be worried about."

Ariana visibly relaxed, "Why did you call me up here anyway?" she then asked curiously, her desire to know everything and anything overpowering all her feelings – as always.

Before she could get another word in, Dorea shuffled just an inch closer, her straight posture and determined look on her face signalling that whatever she was ruminating about before, she was ready to say now.

"Miss Peverell, back in Scotland, did your parents ever give you... you know, _The Talk_?" was what came forth with a controlled voice.

Ariana pulled her head back slightly and frowned at the uncharacteristic usage of formality, her mind sending off warning bells as it kicked into gear at the question.

 _Talk? What sort of talk is she referring to?_

 _I mean I never had parents when I was growing up, so I wouldn't know of any…_

 _Perhaps… it's for the usage of magic outside of school?_

She bit her lip nervously, opting to respond with a harmless lie, "Yeah, I think so. My parents told me that underage magic should –"

"No," came the instantaneous reply, "I meant the _sex talk_."

Ariana's world grinded to a halt. Her eyes and mouth opened wide and stayed frozen in an expression of stunned shock as the cogs in her brain refused to turn. Rendered speechless, she sat limply where she was, like a mute, flaccid Flobberworm.

"Judging by that reaction, I guess not," Dorea muttered decidedly to herself. She then refocused her attention, "Have you had your first period yet? Do you even know what that is?" she continued with an outwardly calm face.

Still too horrified to even comprehend what was going on, Ariana unconsciously nodded in response.

"Okay, great," Dorea breathed with a small sigh of relief, "At least that's out of the way."

The older woman tried her absolute hardest to keep her cool amidst a situation she'd never really been in before, adopting a casual air in all her motions in an effort to make the other occupant of the room relaxed as well.

"Now, we are going to go over some physical changes that will happen to you," Dorea patiently listed out, taking control of the situation as she counted with her fingers, "After that, we will discuss feelings of strange urges that…"

Ariana's mind had enough; the circuits in her brain had finally overloaded, for the last thing a recent teenage boy wanted was a _Birds and the Bees_ talk that was meant for the opposite sex.

However, though the vast majority of her life was spent as a male, her new body was now flooding her with an abundance of female hormones, changing the very essence of who she was day by day, just minuscule enough to be unnoticeable. What she really needed, was one final push to realize who she truly was in this new world, for the past was now all but a distant memory to her, nothing tangible left apart from the ugly and jagged scars that carried over on her fragile body.

"Ariana, are you listening? This next part is extremely important," came a voice, the tone firmer than usual.

"I-I'm still listening," the adolescent stammered in a mortified and highly flustered voice, her eyes looking everywhere but at her grandmother as she tried her hardest to suppress heat that stubbornly sat on her cheeks.

Dorea chewed her lip as she thought how to properly explain the next subject matter, the mask on her face breaking for the first time during the conversation as her brow furrowed slightly. After a slight pause, she then carried onwards on a task that was largely at the request of her son.

"Now, the topic which is absolutely crucial for you to know is…" she began in a light tone, her mask of calmness sliding back into place. Little did she want the young witch to know that she was terribly flustered as well.

"… _pregnancy."_

Without giving the younger witch time to react, the Potter matriarch quickly pushed forwards, nonverbally summoning an old anatomy chart that she had found in one of her spare rooms and commanding it to unfurl and float in the air in front of them.

"Now that you know how your body functions and what will happen to it in the future, we can explore the act and consequence of sexual intercourse," she articulated clearly, the only signs of distress the small and uncontrollable twitches of her left eyebrow, "Firstly, when a male and female…"

The things she was uttering were in such a high level of visceral detail that she never noticed that the younger witch was squirming and shuddering ever so often as she dived into the more sensitive and graphic topics.

"…and through that process, a baby is finally born," she ended after a full five minutes of discourse.

Ariana had grown quiet and contemplative at the onslaught of new information, most of which she'd no clue about to begin with. As she ruminated away, a lone thought suddenly struck her like a thunderbolt, its significance creating a physical backlash as she sat up violently. Horror now began to creep through her body, diluting every fibre of her being as her ever-expressive eyes turned impossibly large.

" _Wait_ ," the adolescent whispered as realization slowly dawned upon her, her hands unconsciously curling and cradling her lower stomach, " _I_ … _I_ can… actually get… _pregnant_?"

Dorea raised an eyebrow in response, "I don't see why not, my dear."

As if cold water was suddenly poured over Ariana's head, a flurry of thoughts erupted from the top of her mind, jumbling over each other in a tangled mess as scenarios and memories of recent past assaulted her senses. As if a torch was sudden lit in the dusty recesses of her mind, a light now suddenly shone on things that were previously a total mystery to her. After all those months she'd spent in this new, strange world, she finally realized something: _she was a real girl_.

And with this new knowledge emboldening her thoughts and actions, she did a thing that most people would normally do in situations like these.

She promptly fainted.

* * *

" _ANA, YOU IN HERE?"_ a voice called out loudly through a narrow crack in a doorway, the sound slipping through the gap and dancing around a darkly lit room.

After a few seconds of silence, a hazel-eyed teenager shut the door to the obviously empty room with a sigh of exasperation.

"Damn it, why in Merlin's name are you doing this?" James muttered in consternation as he paced on the spot, temporarily ignoring a black-haired boy that was languidly leaning against the wall and staring at him in amusement.

It was almost nightfall, and the two Gryffindors still hadn't found the youngest of their trio. They had no idea why the young witch was still hiding, or why she hid in the first place, but they'd been charged with finding her at the behest of Lady Potter.

It apparently had something to do with 'girl stuff', as the dignified woman succinctly and unhelpfully put it.

They began in their task of systematically searching every room in the expansive manor that was Godric's Hollow and as a result, their boredom quickly peaked. Unable to handle the monotonous job any longer, Sirius began to sing – badly, _really_ badly. An unholy amalgamation of two popular wizarding songs that would drive any listener mad if exposed to for more than a few minutes.

"Padfoot, knock it off kindly?" James grumbled loudly after putting up with it for a full minute, now placing his hands over ears in a feeble attempt to blot out the unearthly noises that were emanating from his friend.

Sirius paused before giving a grin full of mischief, "Only if you join in, Prongs."

"No."

"Yes."

"No– _OKAY_ , _FINE_ ," James yelled in panic, quickly acquiescing when he noticed Sirius was advancing one step closer with a glint in his eye each time he refused him.

And thus, they continued in their merry hunt, one willing – and one not-so-willing – participant meandering through a brightly lit mansion in the crisp coolness of a midsummer's night, elbows interlocked as they sung tunes that would cause many an ear to bleed if listened to.

Halfway into their spirited prancing, James abruptly froze mid-step as an inkling of an idea dawned upon his mind. He then slapped himself on the head with his free hand as an audible sound of exasperation escaped from his lips, his actions causing Sirius to look at him quizzically.

"Oh Merlin, how could I've been so dumb," he groaned loudly, "I know _exactly_ where our missing companion is."

The doors of the Potter Library swung open with a noisy bang as two boisterous young men entered, each one calling out a single name loudly. Eyes quickly scanned over designs that harkened back to the Victorian era, over polished wood chairs with carved backs and splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, over dignified mahogany writing desks, and over all other manner of unique softwood and hardwood.

After a few seconds, through the gloom of the room, James was just able to make out what seemed like a mountain of books that resembled a towering fortress from a distance. He blew out a noisy sigh of relief as he recognized the tell-tale traces that a certain young witch would often leave her wake. He wanted to quickly get to her and escort her downstairs, for his parents had informed him out of the blue that they wanted a late night meeting.

The teenagers' footsteps echoed softly through the large room as they ambled through it, the noise created by their feet tempered into silence by the overabundant presence of wood that surrounded them, the material absorbing the sound and gradually muting it until there was almost nothing left.

"Hey, kiddo," James called out loudly when they'd reached speaking distance to an edifice that was largely comprised of paper and leather, "What gives?"

A small frown crossed his face after receiving not a single word in response. Getting more baffled as each second passed, he rounded the corner of the constructed barrier and true to his predictions, the young witch was sitting in the eye of the scholarly vortex, curiously holding up a rather heavy book that covered every inch of her face.

"Lady Peverell," he began mock-sternly as he wagged his finger, "What are you… you…" he trailed off, not finishing his sentence as he oddly noticed that no matter which way he angled himself, the young witch would continuously use the book she was holding in both hands to block him from her sight, as if in a never-ending dance.

She had never displayed any behaviour like this to him before.

A weird feeling twisted in James' heart, causing him to step back and nervously ruffle the untameable mop of black hair that sat atop his head. After looking at Sirius for guidance, and receiving only a shrug in return, he pressed forwards.

"Ana… are you okay?" he finally uttered after a silence that seem to stretch on and on.

A small, muffled voice came from behind the book, "J-James… Sirius…"

Wary eyes that were the colour of deep forest pools peered at them over the top of the book as she lowered it just enough so that there was the barest minimum of eye contact.

"Are… are you guys…"

Her voice lost confidence, decreasing in volume until it resembled nothing much more than whisper of a faint breeze.

James was not deterred.

"C'mon, spit it out," he encouraged in a gentler voice, wanting to get to the bottom of what was distressing the obviously unsettled girl, "Whatever it is, no one will get mad, I promise."

The sound of his mellow voice seemed to do the trick, for Ariana then fully lowered the book that she'd been hiding behind this whole time to expose a face that slightly tinged with hints of redness. After a few quiet seconds, something flashed across her face too quick for them to notice, but whatever it was, it gave her enough confidence to speak.

"Are you guys okay with me being a girl?" Ariana spoke quickly, almost breathlessly.

James and Sirius looked at each other briefly with a blank look before turning back to the seated adolescent, "What?" they chorused in unison, their confused expressions mirroring each other perfectly.

Ariana audibly gulped and took a deep breath, as if to calm her down. "Are you guys okay with me being a girl?" she repeated in a slightly louder voice, her electrifying eyes never leaving their faces even for a second, as if keenly searching for something.

James gave a loud hum and he tapped his chin as he contemplated the oddly phrased question, "I think that… that… err…–"

"Oh, of course we are, you scamp," Sirius cheerily interrupted with a wave of his hand as he took over his stammering friend, hopping up and sitting on the wooden desk in a casual manner, "Frankly, I don't quite understand what you're implying, but we both…" he motioned to James and himself, "… are _one hundred percent_ okay with the way you are right now," he continued strongly.

His metallic eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight as he learned closer, as if sharing a closely-guarded secret, causing something strange to stir in her stomach. The only thing he then did was to tilt his head, wink mischievously and say one, single line.

" _Never change, pup._ "

Ariana's eyes widened comically from the nickname, one she'd been never called before by the Sirius of this world, but only by the one of the past. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes against her will as memories of both worlds, past and present, of joyful and melancholic, of friend and family, of this particular young man in front of her, collided together into one swirling mass and overwhelmed her mind, the sudden blow temporarily inundating her senses.

It was awhile before her brain was able to reorient itself and think clearly.

Suddenly conscious of what was happening, she hastily wiped a few stray tears that had meandered down her cheek, ignoring the alarmed faces of the concerned wizards that had caught sight of sudden teardrops.

In a blink of an eye, her mood then dramatically shifted, for a brilliant smile now blossomed across her face. The smile however, was like no other the two young men had ever seen before. For a split second, their worlds stopped. The sincere smile pierced through them, making home in their hearts, was filled with such emotion, it seemed to take all the bad out of in their lives and feel as if all was well again.

"So, how was your trip to Diagon Alley earlier today?" Ariana brightly burst out in a show of exuberance as her hands flailed animatedly in the air, discarding and leaving the old topic behind in the dust.

Her mercurial tendencies, one which just cycled through a spectrum of emotions in mere seconds, were not in the very least a surprise to two young men, for it was merely part and parcel of the quirks and quiddities that defined the young girl's very being.

James cleared his throat noisily, being the first one to recover in any given situation – a valuable trait he had learned from his farther. "The day went spiffingly, if I do say so myself," he responded in an overly refined voice, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he realised that everything now was back to normal – well, normal in regard to a peculiar young witch. He then regaled her with the many escapades the Marauders went on in the short time they were together whilst buying the supplies they needed for their final year at Hogwarts.

"Hold on," Sirius rudely interjected as he addressed the young witch, unable to wait for the Potter heir to finish telling his stories as a stray thought suddenly struck him, "Why didn't you come with us to get your stuff for the new semester?" he asked quizzically, ignoring the glare James was giving him at the interruption, "At the very least, you'll need new textbooks for your classes."

"Good question, Snuffles," Ariana nodded, jumping up and sitting on the mahogany desk beside the Black heir, "Professor Dumbledore buys all my things for me since I don't have any money of my own," she continued informatively with a small shrug.

Sirius eyed her weirdly, "Even your, err… clothes?"

Ariana gave the tall teenager beside her an equally weird look, "Oh yeah – I'd forgotten that magically resizing clothes is a _really_ hard thing for Professor Dumbledore to do," she dead-panned.

The Black heir snorted in amusement as the dryness of her comment and was about to respond but the other wizard in the room cut him off.

James gave a loud clap as he remembered the purpose of this hunt, "Sorry guys and gals, but it's a wrap," he said with a commanding voice, acting as if he was in charge of Muggle film making, "We've got to head on out, let's go people," he finished with shooing motions.

And so, the trio then trundled through the sizeable mansion in complete harmony with one another, with the young girl walking in between the two older wizards that escorted her in a protective manner.

"By the way, what brought this on?" James asked inquisitively after a minute, clearly alluding to what just happened. He was glad that the bizarre episode was over but was still incredibly curious of its trigger.

The young witch shifted her eyes side to side in response, as if checking if the coast was clear. Once satisfied, she looked back up, and replied oh-so innocently.

"Your mum just gave me the _sex talk_ , can you believe that?"

* * *

Ariana nearly jumped out of her skin when Sirius gave a high-pitched screech of panic and bolted away immediately upon hearing her utterance, leaving James and her alone in the brightly lit corridor, the red carpet they were standing on muffling the racket that was still emanating from the retreating teenager.

Initially that afternoon after that fateful talk, her mind had cruelly betrayed her, forcing her to imagine scenario after scenario that involved Sirius, her father and her, completely against her will. The depths of her imagination knew no bounds as it conjured up all sorts of depraved possibilities, no matter how many times she'd repeatedly hit her head with a book in an attempt to blot the disturbing scenes out.

But once she'd spoken with both of them and realized that their eyes held only the noblest of intentions toward her, the raging storm within her heart quelled, for she realized no matter what form she took, she'd still be accepted among them.

She then gave a confused frown as she assessed the situation, looking between the spot at where Sirius had just vacated and back up at James, who looked just like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing without any semblance of sound coming out.

 _Why are they acting like that? Didn't we just go through this just now?_

The young girl it seemed, though now intellectually informed, was still as clueless as she was in her previous life about matters relating to this particular topic. While it is normal for her to discuss things like these with Ron and Seamus in the privacy of their dorm when she was a boy, she failed to realize that it was not the same when discussed between different sexes, no matter how close she felt to the other.

"A-Ariana," James started with a shaky voice, "Is… is this what you were meant back in the library?"

The young girl stared at him as if he had just sprouted Hippogriff feathers from his head, "Of course?" she replied slowly in an obvious tone, "What else could I've been talking about?"

James cleared his throat noisily for the umpteenth time that night and plastered an obvious look of fake brightness on his face, staring off into the far distance as he refused to make eye-contact with the young and clueless girl. "A-Anyway," he recovered with an unnaturally large smile, one which seemed too big for his face, "Let's get going, Mum and Dad are waiting for us down by the parlour," he ended with an oddly chipper attitude, abruptly taking off without a look back.

Ariana then cast all previous thoughts aside as she too set off behind him, struggling to keep up with the long strides of the Potter heir, "What's… this… about?" she asked between breaths, looking up suspiciously at the tall young man.

"No clue," James casually shrugged, his eyes still fixated on something far away.

The young girl looked around owlishly for their missing companion, "What about Sirius?"

James gave another nonchalant shrug. "He'll be back."

And with that unspoken end to the conversation, the result of the journey continued in silence. As they neared their destination, Ariana made out a bright lit room at the far end of a corridor. Upon reaching the doorway, she was greeted with a room that held a rather rustic and homely look.

A lone antique couch stood on the far end of the room beside an ashen fireplace, its still smouldering hearth accompanied by rich velvet and bronze wing-chairs on each side, standing beside it akin to sentries in vigil. Thick velvet curtains hid long windows across granite walls, just leaving a shy peak of the world beyond. The paintings and faded tapestry panels on the walls seem to nod at Ariana as she entered, as if warmly greeting her like an old friend.

The atmosphere in contrast, was altogether different. An observer with a keen eye would notice that Charlus was pacing on spot with his hands clasped tightly in front of his stomach and constantly fiddling with his knuckles, his fingers weaving in and out of each other in a palpable sense of nervousness. Dorea while seated, had her slender fingers pressed into the skin of her forearms slightly too hard to be considered natural as a strange anticipatory look sat on her face.

Ariana, being ever-watchful of her surroundings, immediately picked up the subtle signals her grandparents were displaying. Her mind sent off loud warning bells in her head, causing hundreds of theories and hypotheses to thunder through her mind as it assessed the situation, the rapid mental straining causing the first signs of sweat to break out at her corner of her brow.

Dorea instantly lost the previous expression she was wearing – as did Charlus – once she spied the expected young man and girl entering the room, "Hello there, darlings," she greeted warmly, beckoning them over to the yellowing couch, "Come and get yourselves comfortable."

James donned an affectionate grin towards his beloved mother and trotted obediently over to her, eager to know what this was all about, for it was rare for the Potters to partake in planned gatherings amongst themselves.

Ariana on the other hand, was terrified.

 _Was I caught? Did they see me in the kitchens with the potion? Was it a house elf? What if…_

Her mind refused to stop as more and more scenarios, each more bizarre than the next, flashed across her waking eyes, accelerating with such intensity that it almost trapped her in a never-ending loop of thoughts.

She was fortunately broken out of her all-consuming mindscape when two gentle hands rested themselves upon her small shoulders, causing her to violently end her train of thoughts and stare blankly up at her saviour for a few seconds as her mind reset itself.

"Dear, are you well?" her grandmother's hazy voice floated down melodiously towards her.

The mist on Ariana's thoughts then cleared as she nodded absently in response, rubbing her eyes before giving a timid smile to the kind and nurturing woman that seemed to understand her so well.

When they all got comfortably seated by the hearth, where a crepitating fire curled and swayed hypnotically as it sent out its warmth and light far out into the room, Lord Potter was the first to speak.

"Miss Peverell," he boomed, seemingly unable to lower the naturally jollity and volume of his voice in any given situation, "Tomorrow marks the day where you depart back to Hogwarts for your new year of schooling," he continued as he angled his head towards the respective young witch, "Have you enjoyed your stay? I hope we've been accommodating enough."

Ariana's eyes widened, " _O-Of course!_ " she spluttered loudly, her vigorous nods causing dark locks of hair to dance like waves upon her shoulders, "I loved _every_ second of it," she emphatically declared as she audibly thumped her fist in her hand, eliciting small giggles in response to her dramatic motions.

"It's much nicer here than back in Hogwarts," she added as an afterthought.

"Whatever do you mean?" Dorea curiously asked as she swiftly took over from her husband, "Surely, Albus would've gotten you comfortably ensconced in some snug room overlooking a beautiful vista. That old and rather endearing habit of his is quite unrivalled amongst the members of the gentry," she ended fondly, alluding to the fact that she knew the young girl had private living quarters in her school.

"Well, Hogwarts is nice and all to stay… but I do get lonely sometimes," Ariana admitted.

"How so?"

Ariana hid a frown.

 _Where is this conversation going? Am I in trouble?_

"Well, Albus is always busy with paperwork, as are all the other Professors," she started slowly and carefully, "And I don't personally know anyone else who stays back at Hogwarts for the holidays."

Dorea leaned forward just an inch, "What do you do to pass the time then? It surely must be very boring all by yourself."

"Not really," Ariana readily disagreed as she brought up her fingers in a counting motion, "For starters, I read in the restricted section of Hogwarts' Library, study medieval manuscripts, cross-examine magical journals, deconstruct ancient rituals and… OH, I also–"

Dorea interrupted her with a soft laugh, "Ever the bookworm, my dear," she fondly grinned, knowing that the young witch's list was nearly unending when it was related to the pursuit of knowledge, "Makes one wonder why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw instead."

Ariana blushed and stopped her rambling.

 _If the Sorting Hat sorted me into another house, I would've promptly hexed it on the spot_. _There is no way I'm going into a different house other than the one my parents are currently in._

Her eyes then glazed over as she modelled a hypothetical scenario in her head.

 _Hmm, actually, I wonder what would actually change if I was shoved into Ravenclaw instead? Maybe I…_

"Ariana, dear," came a voice, breaking her out of her musings, "My husband and I have something quite important that we want to say to you. Is that okay?"

Ariana refocused and nodded warily after she replayed the sentence once over in her mind, still unsure what the crux of this discussion was and wondering if she was in an unknowingly precarious position.

"Can any and all questions wait until we finish?" Dorea's motherly voice requested a second later.

After seeing a cautious and hesitant nod, Lady Potter began to speak.

"Professor Dumbledore came to us last year with a rather… exotic proposition, once of which I can finally disclose to you both," she revealed evenly, noting that the young witch and her son perked their ears up inquisitively at her announcement.

"Ariana, back then, Albus told us all the current situation about your living status and your current state of well-being," she paused and tilted her head, "Which the latter has _obviously_ changed since we last time we met."

Noticing that the young witch has visibly brimming with a multitude of questions in those large, green eyes of hers, she knew she had to push forward or she'll quickly get barraged with ever-ending questions. Just as she was about to speak, Lord Potter fluidly took over.

"Miss Pever–… no, _Ariana_ ," Charlus corrected himself, garnering shocked looks as he used her first name for the very first time, a break in formality a rarity from the dignified patrician, "From what we garner, you've currently no place to call your home, Hogwarts accommodation notwithstanding."

A look of pity crossed his face, "Although many of us – the Purebloods – were delighted to hear that the ancient line of Peverell had resurfaced for being absent for decades and decades, we were then saddened to hear that only one member was left," he motioned the Ariana, speaking with uncharacteristic softness, "You, my girl: Lady Peverell, the last of her bloodline."

"With no inheritance due to Scotland's obscene laws on hereditament, with no money nor physical properties to call your own, you still pushed on despite all the odds," Charlus pressed forward.

"Were you of age to legally emancipate with the aid of Gringotts, we wouldn't be in this position right now," he continued, "But the reality is, you are too young to be fending for yourself out there in the world."

Charlus then hesitated, "Albus also did tell us about… other things."

"Before you came to us, we were doubtful of your state of mind – no matter how much he tried to assuage our concerns," Charlus confessed with slight shame lining his voice, referring to the venerated wizard. His words were then careful, as if not to bring up a certain topic, "For even if the body is strong, the mind is not so easily healed."

As he paused to take a breath to speak, Dorea once again took control the reins, "In regard to that," she continued, slipping back into the flow of the conversation effortlessly, "I can say with undying certainty that you'd won us over from the very second you stepped into the house. The kindness and fullness of your heart put all of ours to shame," she gently murmured, delicately reaching over and taking one of Ariana's hands in hers.

"It's quite unnatural really, how you fit in so perfectly with us," she added fondly, "Your day-to-day interactions with James, that rascal Sirius, our merry group of house-elves… everything really."

Ariana's breath hitched, an inkling of an idea rising to the top of her mind.

 _Are they… going to offer me a roof over my head, just like they did with Sirius when he got kicked out of his house?_

What was said next however, was something young Ariana did not expect in her wildest dreams.

Dorea took a deep, deep breath.

"Would you… would you like to become a Potter?" she asked quietly.

For the second time that day, Ariana's world stopped.

The comment was so bizarre, so far from what she expected, that it almost dealt a physical blow to her. As if an impact had knocked every wisp of air from her lungs, she sat wordless where she was, struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything.

All her thoughts came crashing down upon her a split second later, as she then blushed a deep beetroot red and grabbed a cushion off the couch and shoved it into her face at the speed of light, embarrassment burning deep into her soul as she misconstrued the words.

"I'm…I'm still too young for that," she cried out in a muffled voice, glad that her red face couldn't be seen through the transient cover the cushion provided, "Y-You said so yourself, Mrs Potter."

"I said… _what_?" Dorea exclaimed loudly as her face twisted in confusion, all the nervousness in her system replacing itself with complete and utter bafflement.

Ariana refused to drop the soft case of stuffed duck feathers that hid her face, her hands curling tightly on its satiny edges.

 _This is it. This is my life right now. I'm about to be married off to my own father._

"I can't m-marry James," she sniffled loudly, her quavering voice taking a higher pitched tone, "I-I don't know what Professor Dumbledore said but… but…–"

Before she could finish her sentence, she heard a chorus of loud groans and a sound that resembled three hands slapping their foreheads respectively.

Her source of safety was suddenly wrenched from her hands and a figure out of the corner of her eyes lunged at her. Her brief sliver of distress vanished when the certain someone gave her an all-encompassing hug, one which made her feel inexplicably safe, warmth seeping through her skin and flesh down to her very bone. A tender voice then floated towards her ears, causing her to lift her head up and break out of her comfortable position.

"You precious thing, you," Dorea murmured fondly as she squashed the now flailing girl against her ample bosom, "Let me rephrase myself."

"Would you like to be part of the Potter family? Not as a daughter-in-law, _but as a daughter._ "

And thus, for the third time that day, Ariana's world stopped.

As if a beam of light had pierced through her body and soul, she quivered violently, causing her limbs to lose all their strength as she flopped numbly back onto the older witch that was softly embracing her.

Then, it came.

Like the golden rays of the sun finally peeking out from behind a dark cloud, Ariana looked up and broke out into the most radiant smile, an image that would forever etch itself into the hearts of people in that room.

And so, the smile stayed, eternally stained upon her lips even after she broke down and wept as she said yes, over and over again, until they begged her to stop.

Her joy, her love, her laughter, her cheer. All these reached the ears of those who had forgotten the warmth of such harmonies. She shared it all, playing life's song **,** a swelling symphony that sought to mend any heart and nourish any soul.

Thus, one chapter of Ariana's life had just come to an end.

And so the next, began.

* * *

 **A/N:** A dream come true for Ariana, she's finally a Potter again. With her first year in Hogwarts completed and her holidays concluded, she's prepared for another year in the wizarding world! But can she handle the dangers and mysteries that her very presence has created?

Many stories left untold soon will come to light in ways which one would never expect.

P.S Thanks everyone for your support! Have a great day/night!


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:** Story will accelerate from here on, pinkie promise. The previous 5-6 chapters were just a reflection of what would it be truly like if one were suddenly treated with unconditional love and care. Their world would start to slow down, make them take things easy, appreciate all that life has to offer.

Responding to 'timefreak': If someone constantly treats you like a kid, you start to act like one! Ariana was pandered to and was spoilt rotten during her stay, hence why she was acting in such an uncharacteristic manner. Don't you worry friend, everything is as it should be.

Responding to 'Aftermath Man': A bit of R&R for our young heroine is much deserved :)

P.S. Thanks again for reading (and all the positivity)!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 30**

" _All men dream, but not equally_."

The voice of a male carried high and far into the flat expanse of a desolate desert that lay before him. The nascent beginnings of a simoom stirred up wispy grains of sand in ever-growing gusts as the scorching sun beat down with its malevolent unblinking eye. Heat licked at the man's tanned face and coiled around his limbs like a great hot-blooded serpent. The sand beneath his feet felt like standing in a river of molten lava, smouldering and roiling like the undulations of a vast, turgid sea.

Despite being subjected to nature's unbridled fury, the lone figure stood cool and refreshed, seemingly unaffected by all that what was happening around him.

" _Those who_ _dream by night_ _, in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity_ ," the man continued, his voice growing stronger with each passing word, " _But the_ _ **dreamers of the day**_ _are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible._ "

A second figure walked slowly up behind the first, the presence heralded by the the sound of sharp stones crunching underfoot.

" _This, I did_ ," came a second voice behind first, finishing the legendary quote, "Chapter one, _Seven Pillars of Wisdom."_

A darkly robed figure turned lazily on the spot and assessed the new arrival with a blank look.

"Rodolphus Lestrange," the figure simply said.

"Augustus Rookwood," the second figure said in kind.

The newcomer was in his early twenties, had a thin face and wind-swept hair that was black as night – yet was handsome nonetheless. His bone structure was symmetrical, cheek bones high and prominent. A keen observer would also notice that his stance could only be described in one word: dangerous, supple as a panther, capable of exploding into destructive power if he so desired.

The current spy for the Order of the Phoenix, who was also an Unspeakable, narrowed his charcoal black eyes slightly when he noticed that his… _colleague_ was dressed in formal Death Eater robes and also held a silver mask dangling freely in one of his hands.

Rodolphus gave a snort at the scene, "Reading? You don't look the type."

Augustus gave a small shrug, "I don't look like many things," he replied nonchalantly, holding a vacant gaze as he snapped his book shut.

Ignoring the cryptic statement, Rodolphus grinned cheerfully under the pale morning sun, "That being said – good choice of literature," he rumbled approvingly.

Augustus paused for the briefest of seconds before humming in agreement, running a single finger down the spine of the book.

"The autobiography of a wizard who possessed an unrivalled mastery over one of the three Unforgivables," he spoke evenly, "I doubt anyone has surpassed him in the last century in that regard."

An odd shine appeared his Rodolphus' eyes, "T.E Lawrence, the Dark Lord of Arabia, master of the Imperius Curse," he remarked with a hint of respect in his voice, "Holding the record for the highest count of Imperius Curses ever cast. The way he bent several countries entirely to his will has still made him one of the most infamous Dark Lords to date."

Even though Augustus hated casual conversation, he could help but concur, "You're right," he murmured quietly, "Unlike other Dark Lords of yore, Lawrence accomplished all of his feats with nothing else apart from his own wand. No followers, no army – just him. Truly one-of-a-kind."

After they shared a look, Rodolphus' eyes then hardened as he remembered his purpose. He reached deep into the black folds of his enchanted robes and pulled out a tightly wrapped bundle that looked similar to his own robes but was folded neatly into a square. Its rough and frayed cuts showing that although it didn't possess an air of _haute couture_ , it was certainly capable of withstanding significant physical damage.

"Time for your scholarly pursuits to come to an end, Unspeakable Rookwood," he said gaily, his eyes glowing as anticipation burned in his veins like wildfire.

" _We have a mission_."

Instead of being surprised or shocked about being suddenly called to a high-ranking operation without any prior warnings, all Augustus felt was something fierce settle on his heart.

He was ready.

Augustus knew exactly what his false master was doing, subtly changing the roster of wizards and witches with each mission, hoping to find a pattern of disloyalty amongst his followers. He _knew_ Voldemort knew there was a traitor. There had to be. He had already foiled a few pivotal missions that would've cost many an aristocrat's blood to be spilt if he hadn't prevented it.

His current goal in life was primarily about saving as many Pure-bloods as he possibly could, until the tensions would inexorably escalate into one final battle between both of the warring factions of the wizarding world of course. He had bet every last thing he owned that Dumbledore's side would win. If not, he would surely face a fate worse than death.

In regard to this next mission however, he knew better than to alert the Order, for his acute sense of judgement was sensed something amiss and was currently screaming at him not to tell anyone about Voldemort's next move; besides, a sacrifice every now and then was always a necessity for the greater good.

The current Dark Lord was cunning – but so was he.

"Location?" Augustus asked casually as he brought forth his wand in one fluid motion and swished in the air, causing the black bundle that was waiting in the other wizard's palm to disentangle itself from the string that tightly bound it and float in the air towards him.

"214 Ashton Road, Hale, Manchester."

Augustus froze for a millisecond as he recognized the address, the product of perusing through confidential files every second night.

"Targets?" he carried on emotionlessly, resuming his motions as he pretended to be oblivious, his magic guiding the sickly black robe onto his body.

"Lord and Lady Parkinson."

Augustus nodded silently as he was handed a silver mask after his robes were secure, his grip tightening around the detailed vizard in unadulterated fury for a brief second before placing it on his face, the brief paroxysm too quick for the other wizard to notice.

He was just about to depart without another word but stopped at the very last second, sensing something off with the characteristically genial wizard in front of him. Scrutinizing the older Lestrange brother carefully, his eyes then widened by a fraction as he suddenly knew exactly what thoughts lay behind the other man's mind.

This next move, a golden opportunity that prostrated itself before him, could potentially get him more favoured position with both the Houses of Lestrange _and_ Black, an advantage that would greatly widen his possibilities of political espionage. After a brief period of mental deliberation, he knew what route to take.

"How's the wife?" the Unspeakable asked suddenly, a touch of fake concern lining his voice.

Rodolphus gave a look of surprise before he banished it, shutting his mouth as he deliberated whether or not to reply.

"Bellatrix... lives, for now," he finally revealed in a quiet voice, struggling to find the right words, "But her mind is… is…"

"You know," Augustus cut in smoothly, putting up a mock pensive face as he tapped his chin, "I do recall seeing a particularly well-guarded object in the Department of Mysteries that has the ability to perform localized memory and personality restoration – primarily meant for victims that'd been subjected to extensive physical or mental trauma."

Rodolphus' visage scrunched up in thought as he readily absorbed the new information like a sponge.

"So, what you're saying is that this… object, acts like a Memory Charm?" he started hesitantly, "Capable of reverting the mind back to a state before it was damaged? Like a precision _O_ _bliviate_?"

Augustus nodded in affirmation to all of the questions, his mind spinning off in different directions as he thought of what to say next, choosing between a few scenarios he had already conjured up in his head during in the last few seconds.

 _All Lestrange needs is a little push in the right direction._

 _Perhaps endangering my position as an Unspeakable would sway him?_

He shuffled closer, ignoring the scorching heat of the sun that was beating down upon his back, "If you so desire… I could _borrow_ that specific item for you," he emphasized subtly, his voice lowering as if sharing a closely guarded secret.

Rodolphus' eyes opened wide.

"But if you get caught–

"Don't worry," Augustus interrupted calmly yet again, "I am close friends with the leader of that particular department. It would be relatively easy to cover up its sudden disappearance," he paused before continuing with a more business-like tone, "And personally, I think that erasing specific memories whilst stimulating the prefrontal cortex in the brain is _exactly_ what your wife now needs to fully recover."

Rodolphus grew silent a second time.

Only after a good minute, did he begin to speak.

"I… I'll think about it," he replied in an unsure tone, vacillating on the choice as the sudden barrage of new and potentially life-changing information temporarily inundated his senses, "Y-Your position of Unspeakable is too crucial to our plans to attempt anything like this."

Augustus was glad the mask could hide his smirk.

 _You've already begun to hope Lestrange; there's no escape._

 _Who will you choose? Your master or your wife?_

The spy then bit his lip as he projected the current scenario into the future in his head.

 _If these next chains of events go in my favour, my endeavours wouldn't have been for naught. Worst possible outcome? I might be able to access Grimmauld Place. Best possible outcome? A Life Debt from one of the Black or Lestrange hellspawn._

 _Either way suits me just fine._

His train of thought was then broken as the other wizard then waved a dismissive hand in the air, "Enough talk about unpleasantries, my friend," Rodolphus started, his face sliding back into a cordial state as he gestured with one hand, "Come, our mission begins shortly."

Before they both prepared to Apparate, the oldest of the Lestrange brothers turned back to his fellow Death Eater, something undecipherable flashing across his face.

"T.E Lawrence was right about one thing."

Augustus made a questioning noise in his throat.

" _All men dream, but not equally_ ," the other wizard quoted, referring to the very first thing he heard. His voice then turned ponderous, looking straight into the silver mask that hid the brave spy's face, "To what extent do _you_ dream, I wonder?"

The Unspeakable stayed silent as thoughts churned in his head like the waves of a thrashing sea.

 _My life – bound in servitude to the consuming madness; my magic – tied to thraldom to two warring factions._

 _As each side carries out their petty acts of war, they are blind to another. Clueless in their squabble as a third player prepares to strike from the shadows; t_ _his new, dangerous enemy is an even bigger threat to the wizarding world than the other two combined._

 _I am already prepared for their coming. But I wonder… are Dumbledore and Voldemort ready?_

Augustus gave a grim smile under his mask as the weight of the world bore down his broad, unflinching shoulders.

"For me, no dream is too big."

* * *

 _One hour later_

"There are too many guards, they definitely know we're coming," a darkly clad figure said nervously.

"Oh, shut it, Karkaroff," someone snapped.

The leader of a huddled group of witches and wizards that were dressed in full Death Eater garb quickly raised his arms in a placating manner as the first signs of an inevitable argument showed itself, his quick action ultimately averting an unnecessary squabble as they diverted their attention towards him instead.

Waiting for a pregnant second for distant voices to be tempered into silence, he began to speak, his voice muted and muffled from being filtered through a clump of dense undergrowth.

"We're running through the plan one last time," he said firmly in a low undertone, "Yaxley, Rookwood and Karkaroff will subdue all guards in the specific formation that we've practiced." He waited for a round of nods before continuing. "Now, while I will take care of our _special guest_ over by the courtyard, Carrow is going to erect his own Anti-Apparition wards before disabling the the manor's protective wards. Everyone got it?"

Four serious nods pleased Rodolphus Lestrange, for he had longed to prove himself to his master with his leadership skills and tactical abilities on the battlefield. All the strategies that were so carefully thought out for this particular mission were borne of his grand design.

"Carrow, give me a timing for your ward deactivation again," he whispered as a patrol of three heavily armed wizards passed close by to their position.

"Eight seconds to set my up my own wards, twenty-five seconds to disable theirs," Amycus Carrow grunted softly, "It's nearly impossible to be faster."

Lestrange gave an impressed nod, temporarily forgetting that the people gathered here were all specialists in certain branches of magic. His speciality of magic on the other hand, would be revealed later.

"Any last questions?" he asked as he unsheathed his wand from his holster, the piece of wood almost vibrating as it sensed its master's lust for blood.

Rookwood spoke up. "Yes. Did they know we were coming?" he questioned lowly, his tone revealing the frown in his voice, "Karkaroff is right, there are way too many guards."

Rodolphus shook his head in a negative, "Not us specifically. They've had the extra guards stationed for a few months now," he quickly explained, "The Parkinsons know that they'll soon be next. This is their feeble attempt to stop us."

A strange, righteous light shone from his eyes, "They cannot stop us," he murmured softly, " _They cannot stop the future_."

Just as he was about to get into position, someone else spoke.

"Why are we doing this in the middle of the day? Surely it would be better to attack at night," Igor Karkaroff nervously piped up.

Rodolphus restrained himself from hexing the wizard that had just spoke, something about jumpy man just rubbing him the wrong way.

"Their security heightens at night," he clarified with as much patience as he could muster, "I have studied their movements extensively. Now is when they're at their weakest."

And with that, he finally got into an odd crouching position, one which resembled the pose of an athlete in preparation for a sprint.

He felt like every fibre of his being was vibrating with anticipation. It tingled through him like electrical sparks from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes, heightening every sense he possessed. He then raised one arm high in the air from his kneeled position, ready to give the signal to begin attack at any second's notice.

As a pair of careful eyes behind a silver mask scrutinized the routes of the patrolling guards, he mentally counted down to launch the perfect attack.

 _5… 4… 3… 2… 1…_

After a few silent seconds, he knew the moment had arrived as everything slid perfectly into place.

 _Now._

The rapid descent of his cloaked arm whistled through the air, "Leave no one alive apart from our targets. Got that? _NONE,"_ he grated harshly, his final word turning into a snarl.

With a wave of his wand, a pair of magically enchanted boots he wore on his feet activated, stirred to life by the intensity of his will. And with blink of an eye, he was gone before the others could even react, propelled up and though the air at a speed that rivalled the speed of the fastest broomstick.

A miniature sonic boom defeated the entire mansion as he temporarily surpassed the speed of sound, the unique combination of magic and physics working in his favour as he crossed the expansive grounds of the manor in one single jump, ignoring the shocked and blurred faces of the hired guards below him as he flew.

He ignored them: those were food for his comrades.

The rushing air thundered loudly in his ears as he deactivated his boots mid-flight and turned sideways upon seeing his destination in the distance, the flesh on his face tugging to one side from the deceleration thanks to a phenomenon the Muggles call _g-force_ – something that his master once warned him about when attempting high speed aerial manoeuvres.

The curve of his flight placed him exactly where he wanted to be, for his brilliant mind was able to deconstruct spatial calculations in real time – a inborn ability that he had been gifted with from birth.

He let out a loud grunt when his feet slammed down onto the sun-baked soil of the manor, the violent impact sending out a visible shock-wave and creating a large depression in the soil as his momentum transferred its energy to the ground.

He quickly regained his balanced and stabilized himself within the crater he had just created.

 _Good. My Cushioning Charm worked. Now phase two begins._

Rodolphus drew in a deep breath, filling the entirety of his lungs with air, and then _roared._

His magically amplified war cry resonated and echoed around the entirely of the large mansion, insonifying every nook and cranny within at least a mile radius, causing all those within hearing range to cringe and instantly slam their hands over their ears in an attempt to blot out the blare.

In the mass confusion, the young prodigy's eyes refocused the threat that lay before him.

It was a hideous creature by any and all standards. It towered over him, bipedal, standing roughly about twenty feet. Matted and unkempt hair framed a misshapen and ugly visage. Huge warts that covered a repulsive face protruded outward from the surface of its skin, each disgusting nub resembling the growth of a new limb. It gave off an aura of pure hate expressed in its dull black eyes as it gazed down upon him, its fetid breath smelling oddly like a seven-day old cabbage stew.

It was a giant.

Now, there were two things giants didn't like. One were loud sounds, and the other were things that were too fast for them to catch. Rodolphus was both, and more. He also knew the skin of giants were protected against nearly every type of magic that existed.

However, herein lay the key to his victory.

Words of criticism from a recent past floated into his mind as every muscle in his body tensed for his next action.

" _It took six skilled wizards to subdue that rogue giant that terrorized the Forbidden Forest in the late sixties, what hope do you have on your own?"_

Rodolphus let out a small scoff, clenching onto his wand with such strength that magic was the only thing that kept the wood from splintering in his iron grip.

With a small of flick his wand, his self-created custom-made boots once again actuated when he _jumped_ , straight up from where he stood as he was accelerated upwards into the cloudless sky at a terrifying speed, the action taking him roughly five times as high as the giant's height.

He calmly sailed through the air, wind buffeting his body as he got into position. He knew when he reached his zenith as his back perfectly lined up with the sun, casting a dark shadow on the giant's face. When gravity greedily grasped at ankles and started to wrench him back to earth, he knew it was now or never strike.

" _LUMOS SOLEM!"_ he bellowed when he started to descend, the sudden burst of concentrated magical light accompanied by the natural glare of the afternoon sun searing painfully into the giant's eyes, causing it to roar in an even higher state of confusion.

To the eldest of the Lestrange brothers, this sequence of events seemed to take forever to his mind, but in reality, _nine_ exact seconds had passed from the second he had launched himself from the bushes and was now currently falling down in the air.

The giant was suffering first-hand under his disorienting onslaught, roaring in confusion and swinging its meaty fists in the air at no particular target, its hearing still buzzing from the explosions of noise and it's sight was now blinded by both magical and non-magical means.

Rodolphus then performed then the next and arguably riskiest move.

"My magic will protect me," he murmured softly to himself as he plummeted downwards, wind whistling in his ears as he chanted a mantra, "My magic _will_ protect me."

There was no uncertainties or doubts in his voice. He trusted his magic, as his magic did him.

" _My magic will protect me_."

With another small wave of his wand, his boots came alive once again, obeying the call of its master's magic. This time however, instead of ascending to the skies as he did twice before, he now accelerated down at the giant's face like a speeding bullet with one arm extended, holding a strange metallic tube in a pose that befit a famous Muggle superhero.

As he plummeted downwards, there was only one thing he fixated on.

 _Come on you lumbering brute, move your arm. MOVE YOUR ARM._

Fortune smiled upon him as the creature created an opening in its disoriented thrashing, allowing the wizard to slip past two dangerous arms – ones that were as thick as tree trunks and promised instant death if he were to be caught by them.

Time seemed to slow for him when he neared his destination. Upon reaching it, he mustered all the physical strength he possessed and _rammed_ the mysterious tube into the right eye of the giant with pinpoint accuracy, tearing through its closed eyelid and nearly gouging the eye out.

He bit back a scream as the sudden impact broke every single bone in the arm.

Pushing past the indescribable pain and moving before the sluggish creature could even react, he had already plunged his wand down the hollow tube, past skin and flesh, straight into the raw insides of the beast.

" _EXPULSO!"_ Rodolphus roared with all the physical and magical strength he could muster.

A bolt of blue light rushed out from the tip of his wand and was funnelled down the special tube as he leapt off the chest of the slow-witted giant in an acrobatic move, stumbling once his feet touched back on the ground.

The spell that was designed to produce powerful explosions upon contacting something inorganic entered the giant through its only weak point – the eye.

The oversized creature howled in agony as the curse rebounded inside its body, seeking a trigger to make it activate but finding none in sight due to the nature of the giant's own near-impenetrable skin. As a result, the powerful spell, augmented by the strength of its talented caster, destroyed it slowly from the inside as the curse ping-ponged in its body, creating a morbid display as bruised pock-marks of vivid red and black appeared on its skin from within.

It all ended when Rodolphus snapped his fingers; the loyal spell finally did what it was created to do: it fulminated.

Death was neither kind nor quick to the creature, for there was nothing was left inside the hollow husk but a gooey mess, a disgusting amalgamation of organs, bile and connective tissue. Blood with sinewy chunks flowed out of the limp body from every orifice when the creature at long last toppled to the floor, the viscous liquid splattering onto the warm, sun-kissed ground.

Only after a brief and breathless period of silence did the wizard realize that he had just slain the beast.

The victorious wizard let out a large sigh of relief, grinning widely as he realized every single action he'd performed was perfect, from the flawless timings that would've disastrous if he were off by a millisecond to the perfect curves of his magically assisted jumps.

Realizing he still had one last thing to do, the wizard pointed his wand at his damaged arm before a new wave of pain could hit him due to the wane of his adrenaline surge.

" _Episkey Maximus!_ " he hissed.

He moaned in pleasure when the upgraded version of the regular healing spell stitched muscle and tendon, reconnected nerves and arteries, and sowed skin and fat back together.

Noting that he still couldn't move his arm after the spell due to all the fragmented pieces of bone in his arm, he then cast a secondary spell – a numbing charm – and made a mental note to remove the bone shards later and drink as many _Skele-Gro_ potions as he could find.

"My side is clear, but what about the others?" Rodolphus muttered out loud to himself, his semi-healed arm flopping down uselessly to his side as he refocused on the task at hand. With the giant mercenary down, the rest of the guards should be a piece of cake to his well-prepared comrades.

Feeling something suddenly wash over his skin, akin to someone pouring cold water over his body, he knew total victory was nigh; Carrow had did it, the manor's protective wards were down.

With a purposeful wave of his wand, his boots then activated again, launching him high into the air from where he stood, once more creating sound that resembled a clap of thunder as he broke the speed of sound. As he flew effortlessly in the air like a bird, he soon spotted flashing lights over the far side of the compound a good mile away, calculated the dynamic trajectory in his brilliant mind and he deactivated his boots.

Like a blazing comet he crashed down brutally in the exact location he wanted to be, causing a large depression in the soil when he landed, his body protected by a constant Cushioning Charm and the physical properties of his enchanted robes as the sudden impact shook the earth and knocked all the surrounding wizards and witches off their feet.

"Wotcher, lads," he exclaimed cheerily through the settling dust as he waved his good hand in the air in greetings, still riding on the high from his recent triumph.

In the small pause of confusion that his dramatic presence brought, he saw Rookwood jump to his feet and hurl a curiously designed box at the final group of guards that were still dazed.

When the box neared their opponents and its lid creaked open ever so slightly, every muscle in Rodolphus' body to unconsciously knot up in fear, horror, and awe at the same.

A godless sea of dancing flames that filled a spinning darkness erupted from the opening in the box as the curio created a levitating black hole in the air, sucking everything in within a yard radius. Colours swirled and blended as even light itself seemed to bend a knee in submission to the unknown object.

After a long, horrifying second, the box closed, and with it taking the hole in the fabric of space and time as well as all the guards just previously were next to it.

Rodolphus was the first to speak after witnessing a new type of magic that he couldn't even begin to dream of.

"What… what in Merlin's name was that?" he asked breathlessly, wary eyes locked onto the Unspeakable that walked over to the box and pocketed it in one fluid motion, stowing it deep within his robes from whence it came.

"A little something from the _Planet Room_ ," was the only reply he got, cryptic and uninformative as always.

His eyes shifted left and right at the emptiness around him, "What happened to the guards?" he wondered out loud.

"They are nothing now but unconsecrated corpses floating around in the vastness of the cosmos," came the second reply, even more cryptic than the first.

Rodolphus was about to ask another question before he realized that there were two people still very much alive in the sealed compound.

His commanding aura returned to him, mentally filing away this moment for later as he pointed with his good hand towards a large edifice that towered over them.

"Now, _to the manor_."

* * *

"Are you sure they didn't get away by Floo or Portkey?" came a nervous voice.

"Oh, shut your trap, Karkaroff," someone snapped in annoyance, "We've already been over this. Lestrange took care of those things beforehand."

And with that concern assuaged, the rest marched on quickly and silently behind Rodolphus, who was leading the way with confident steps in the big manor, his poise and gait hinting that he knew exactly where their targets were.

The Parkinson's were the most exotic of all Pure-bloods when it came to architecture. The open porch the Death Eaters were currently walking through was held up with the most ostentatiously detailed pillars, painted in brilliant white. Inside there were no doors on the ground floor, only arches. Great antechambers and majestic vestibules were carpeted with an indigo material with elaborate golden designs and draped with tapestries and dark cloths.

The admiration for the Parkinson's avant-garde choice of decorations came to an end when Rodolphus kicked open the door which led to the main dining hall, the act revealing two very confused faces.

Both groups froze when they locked eyes onto each other.

Augustus was the first to move, taking a single step back to gain a wide uncluttered view of the room they were in as he assessed the situation, plotting something new with each passing second.

 _Hmm. If I stun everyone here and blame it on a magical trap, I can get the Parkinsons out just as I did with the Goyle family last month._

 _No… that's too predictable, the Dark Lord will know._

 _Okay, what if I–_

His thoughts were interrupted as a vicious voice tore through the air.

"Where is my daughter?" a regal looking woman hissed venomously, one who looked like she was in her late fifties, " _Where is_ _Isabel?"_

The elder Lestrange gave a low, mocking bow, " _Salvete, amicis meis epularer_ ," he greeted cordially in Latin, "How fares the mighty Parkinson clan?"

The woman was not fazed by the carefree tone of the intruder, "If you lay a single finger on my daughter, I'll–"

"Fret not," Rodolphus interrupted calmly, "No physical harm will befall your daughter. However, as to her state of mind, all I can say is that she's currently being… _proselytized,_ " he ended with a merry laugh that echoed around the room, his attitude disturbing and confusing the old witch.

The other target, the patriarch of this particular family, then spoke out.

"What business do you have with us?" Lord Parkinson spat angrily, "We've already given fealty to your master; we are under the Dark Lord's protection in exchange for our patronage. _Get out of our house_."

After a pause, all Rodolphus did in response was to slowly remove his mask and place it on the large wooden table that separated the two parties, revealing who he truly was.

Lord Parkinson sucked his breath in sharply, "A Lestrange," he gasped in surprise as he recognized the aristocratic features of the handsome face, "A young, impressionable scion as well."

Bellatrix's young husband stood unaffected as he ignored the remark **,** "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the Dark Lord's directives have recently changed," he informed cheerfully and casually, almost as if discussing the weather.

A nervous bead of sweat appeared on Lord Parkinson's brow as he processed the statement.

"H-How so?"

"He desires the reformation of Wizengamot," came the simple reply.

Lady Parkinson turned white as a sheet from his utterance as something suddenly clicked in her head, the comment shedding light on a particular mystery that plagued the magical gentry for quite some time.

"S-So it was _you_ all along," she stuttered, aghast as she pointed at the unmasked Death Eater, causing everyone to direct their attention to her, "You're responsible for all of _their_ deaths."

An unnervingly polite smile played host to Rodolphus' lips, "You'll have to be a little more specific, Lady Parkinson," he said politely, his eyes alight with something truly dangerous, "I've killed many in my life."

Lady Parkinson refused to say anything further, her mouth clamped shut out of fear. In her silence, Lord Parkinson finally caught up on what his wife was talking about and he too, turned white as a ghost.

" _Abraxas Malfoy_ ," he lowly intoned with no trace of emotion in his voice, " _Arcturus Black, Humphrey Nott, Aeneas Macnair_ …" he rattled on, listing off all the names of recently deceased Pure-bloods.

"You… you've been culling the older generation, one family at a time," he said in a quivering voice, "Posing their deaths as accidents _,_ only for title of Head to be passed onto the next successor," his visage then twisted in confusion, "But in Merlin's name, _why?_ We all pledged our loyalty to the Dark Lord many years ago."

Rodolphus gave a single clap, "Great job! You've got us all figured out," he said in a pleased tone, as if complimenting a small child, "And just for that, you've earned the right to know why we are doing this."

The almost permanent look of cheerfulness he always carried on his face suddenly morphed into something else. Something ugly.

" _YOUR GENERATION LET MUGGLE-BORNS INTO OUR BELOVED SOCIETY_ ," he roared wildly as a wave of non-verbal magic that spoke for his unbridled fury blasted the unprepared wizard and witch off their feet.

The old wizard struggled to get up on his feet but stopped as a glowing wand was shoved in his face.

" _YOUR GREED FOR THE MONEY THE MUGGLES POSSESSSED_ …" the impassioned Death Eater bellowed, "… _ **HAS DOOMED US ALL**_."

The rest of the Death Eaters stood silent and frozen as their comrade cast spell upon spell upon the screaming couple, their hair-raising shrieks causing the windows and mirrors to rattle in accordance to their intensities.

The Parkinson's souls were relinquished from their mortal coils long before the wizard had finished his unrelenting onslaught of dark spells.

Their bodies lay like ghoulish mannequins by the time he was done, their oesophagi and arteries sticking out akin to corrugated and rubber tubing. The skin on their faces hadn't just been burnt, but it had been burnt off entirely. From the scorch marks on the semi-cooked muscle beneath it seemed to have been done with wild bursts of _Incendio,_ taking one layer of flesh at a time.

Rodolphus looked back at his motley crew of Death Eaters and gave them a large Cheshire-cat grin, his blood-stained face and aura of geniality a jarring juxtaposition next to the two smouldering corpses.

The smell of cooked human flesh wafted around the room.

"What shall we do about our magical traces?" Yaxley's voice piped up, the first to speak, undisturbed by the carnage he had just witnessed, "Do you want us to clear up the mess, so the Ministry's sleuths and dogsbodies don't catch on?"

Rodolphus shook his head in a negative as he stowed his wand back into his holster with his good hand, "There's no need for that. Follow me," he ordered succinctly to his team, not caring about the blood that still covered his face as he marched purposefully out of the now deserted mansion.

The group then obediently stepped in line after their mission commander, full respecting the autocratic nature of leadership that their Dark Lord enforced on their missions, his way of figuring out where unseen talent lay in a group – if any.

As the group crossed the once pristine grounds of the expansive manor, a fearsome roar sounded above their heads, causing four out of the five members to panic and automatically reach for their wands as they broke out into a defensive formation.

Rodolphus shook his head as he wordlessly gestured for them to put their wands away. After they acquiesced, another ear-splitting roar of bestial origin emanated from the cloudless skies above as a winged shadow passed over their heads, causing them to instinctively duck yet again.

Following their leader's stride, they then all held onto a proffered Portkey and popped out of existence right as the creature descended from the skies and crashed down onto the grounds of the manor.

What came next, was fury incarnate.

* * *

 _ **BREAKING NEWS! DRAGON BURNS ASHTON MANOR TO THE GROUND**_

 _The once great Ashton Manor, whose lands belong to the House of Parkinson, was burnt to the ground yesterday at 3:30pm in the afternoon, killing the current Heads of the Sacred Parkinson Family. The culprit: a dragon. Experts suggest that a dragon's nest was disturbed by heightened magical activity in the area and was drawn to feed on a fully grown giant, whose bones were found on premises. Investigators are ruling out any foul play since dragons are unable to be controlled by any wizard or witch…_

The knuckles of a young girl turned white as she clenched hard, gritting her teeth in an effort to remain silent, her hunched form exuding an animosity that was like acid, burning, slicing, potent. Her face was tight with suppressed rage, and when she finally finished reading the article, she threw down the paper in disgust as she mentally snapped.

 _Dammit._

The girl growled in rage and punched the nearest thing she could find with all the strength her small body could muster: a wooden bedpost. The victim of her paroxysm groaned under her strike as the entire bed frame rattled violently, tiny slivers of magic leaking out with her emotions.

 _This is all my fault._

Ariana was not referring to the recent deaths of the Lord and Lady Parkinson, but rather the current situation of the wizarding world as a whole.

A stack of crumpled newspapers from the Daily Prophet lay on the ground beside the agitated girl, a collection from the last few months of which she had just finished reading. This update had struck the realness of reality back into her heart, causing her to get up from her bed and pace around in the emptiness of the girl's dormitory.

To her, the past three months had been just… _wasted_. She could've been ten, twenty steps ahead of Voldemort, could've set new political or economic traps with the help of the Order, could've hunted for more clues to find more Horcruxes, or even could've trained further in the sacred art of duelling.

Instead, she read books day and night, played Quidditch, learned how to cook, pranced around in parties… _played dress-up._

She did all these acts over stopping the Dark Lord's first rise to power; and during those months she had vanished from the world, the Dark Lord had switched strategies.

No more was Voldemort's modus operandi based on fearmongering and mass hysteria to achieve his objectives, but was now using guerrilla warfare instead: hit-and-runs, small scale raids, ambushes, and assassinations.

No more did Voldemort vie for the largest cut of the property market, but was now focusing his economic goals on obtaining full control over the trade of basic commodities within the wizarding world: he was hitting the food industry.

No more was Voldemort trying to buy loyalties, win over exiled races and expand his ever-growing army, but was now actively wielding them with cruelty like no other.

No more was Voldemort threatening Muggle-borns with the threat of fire and brimestone, but was now actively slaughtering them, especially those which held positions of power within the wizarding world.

The world had moved on, and she, _Ariana Potter_ , was left behind in its dusty wake.

"And in that time I was in Godric's Hollow, what did I achieve?" the said girl snarled loudly, cool air sizzling as it curled past her body – almost as if her blood was literally boiling in anger under her snow-white skin.

"That's right, _nothing,"_ she spat.

A small part of her brain was screaming at her that the stay at the Godric's Hollow was more valuable than anything she could've achieved, for it reminded her of two very important achievements. One, that she had saved the lives of her grandparents, and the other, that she had joined the Potter family once again, gaining unconditional love and guidance from people that she too loved with all her heart.

For the first time in months, the silver band she adorned, the same one that restricted her magic, came life in accordance to her heightened emotions, safeguarding its wearer as it absorbed the excess magic and transformed it into heat.

"Foolishness, you stupid girl," Ariana whispered furiously to herself as her eyes watered, consciously refusing to heal a growing torus-shaped blister upon on her skin, the pain increasing in pulsating waves with each passing second, "You traded your happiness for those of other's a long time ago. Why did you forget your purpose?"

Strange thoughts then started to whisper in her head, a voice of insidious darkness she'd thought was all but banished once Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem was destroyed.

Even though Albus had told all about the particular incident and how she'd been temporarily possessed by the Horcrux last year just as Ginny once was, she felt something off, as if the lingering madness was still up there, hiding somewhere deep within her mind.

Her scar twinged as she looked out of the open window and down onto the grounds of Hogwarts, a long, long way from her vantage point.

… _all you need to do is jump…_

… _no more would the entire world be your burden…_

… _you've already died once, what's the worst that could happ–_

Ariana suddenly slapped herself, breaking off dangerous thoughts that didn't seem to be hers. It was an open-handed smack and it left a stinging welt where it landed. She staggered backwards from the window from the force of the blow and fell to the floor, eyes watering even more from the combination of hurt on her body – her hand smarting, her wrist burning, her face stinging.

… _yes… we deserve more pain …_

"Shut up," she growled angrily.

… _more suffering…_

" _I SAID SHUT UP,"_ she screamed, her nerves too frayed and emotions too wild to rationally throw up an Occlumency shield to block out the seductive whispers of suffering, perversion and avarice.

Her harsh command however, seemed to do the trick, for the voices then quietened and slunk back into the dark recesses of her vulnerable mind once more, waiting ever so patiently for their next chance to strike – unbeknownst to the adolescent of course.

Ariana back-peddled on the floor at breakneck speed when she regained some semblance of awareness, driven by her primal instincts to get as far away from the from the open window as possible. She only stopped in her wild movements when her back hit something hard and cold: the grey granite of Hogwarts itself.

One often forgot her mind was ravaged by a recent possession by a Horcrux, as well as was currently being strained under the constant stress of Voldemort's connection, one that was more aggressive in the world than in her previous and could only be made defensible by Occlumency.

Stable was _not_ a condition her beleaguered mind was currently in, no matter how hard she tried to mask it with sweet smiles and lilting laughter.

After a good minute of laborious breathing, only then did she manage to pull herself together.

Ariana gave a subdued sigh and she placed her head between her knees, jet black hair tumbling down and hiding her sallow face as weariness completely replaced all the previous emotions she held, "I swear I'll go loopy one of these days," she mumbled incoherently before the corner of her lip quirked upwards in morbid amusement, "I mean… I'm already talking to myself."

After standing back up and healing herself with a quick _Episkey,_ something in her eyes then shifted. Gone were the eyes of a pampered young girl, for all that remained was a gaze that she had previously always held: one of a tired solider, inured and hardened by the struggles of war.

"Oh well, might as well head up to Albus' office and wait for the welcoming feast to end," she decided in an undertone, glad that she had skipped dinner to catch up with the current events even though it was the first day back to Hogwarts.

As she exited the girl's dormitory and walked through the silent castle, she paused mid-step and stroked her chin as a question that haunted her all summer suddenly rose to the surface of her mind once more.

"Why didn't he meet up with me while I was at Godric's Hollow as we planned beforehand?" she murmured out loud, referring to the venerated wizard.

She shrugged tiredly as her legs resumed in their movements, "I guess it's time to find out."

As her small feet tapped upon the cold granite that called Hogwarts their home, she said just one final line through the stillness of the sombre evening.

"I hope Albus is well."


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** A special shout-out to **Gonalt** for the lovely words that motivated me to write more – even though time is something I don't have much of.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 31**

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

A young girl took a deep breath as silence entered her soul like an angel's lullaby, smoothing out the roughness of the day. Twilight came sooner than expected, the last of the sun's rays disappearing over the distant horizon as the empyrean above slowly faded away to blackness. As the young girl awaited the starlight and the silvery moon, silhouettes of distant trees swayed in a manner that almost hypnotized her, causing her to relax even further into the timber of the windowsill she was currently leaning on.

Ariana was in the very same place she was exactly one and half years ago, in the same room in Hogwarts which Albus had so kindly let her take up residence while she was first sorting out how she had ended up in this strange new world. She sighed softly, letting out a musical tune that drifted upwards on the back of a stirring breeze, eyes drawn to the dampening of colours that faded away as the sun did, each hue deepening in noble solemnity, finding unity in the night.

And so, Ariana did not move an inch for the next hour, her head reposed sideways on one arm while the other dangled freely out of the window, the soft hoots of curious owls the only thing giving her pause, their flammulated plumage muted against the grey filter that blanketed the world. After what seemed like an eternity later, she finally heard noises behind her in the form of a door opening and then the thuds of heavy footsteps that seemed to carry an air of responsibility to them.

She lazily rose to her feet, pushing her long, silky hair out of the way as she gave the new arrival a once over with her forest green eyes, ignoring a bout of pins and needles that stabbed at the nerve endings in her feet from her prolonged sedentary position.

The newcomer then began to speak, using a grandfatherly tone which she had so dearly, dearly missed.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts… _Miss Potter._ "

That utterance was enough for Ariana to break herself out from her lethargic state and give a grin so wide her mouth started to hurt. She then gave a joyous laugh and launched herself like a cannonball at the person who just spoke, her arms wide open as she almost flew across the room.

"Hello Al," she murmured in a muffled voice when she latched tightly onto the current headmaster of Hogwarts, hugging her dear friend as all previous worries temporarily expunged themselves from her mind, her spirit soaring upwards with no end in sight.

After the deep hug ended, she then detached from overflowing robes of purple and she placed her arms on her hips in akimbo, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she then donned a glare with no heart behind it.

"Albus, you wicked, wicked man. How could you hide something that important from me?" she mock-scolded, wagging one finger in the air.

"Hide what, my girl?" Albus responded cheerfully, his eyes twinkling brilliantly over his moon-spectacled glasses as he looked down at the spirited young witch.

"You know…" she spluttered, arms flailing animatedly, "…the adoption thing!"

Albus' eyes twinkled even brighter, "I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

The smile on Ariana's face slowly lessened as she sobered, her movement ceasing to be erratic and her face began to contort from the presence of raw emotions that flitted across her face.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," she said quietly, her hands curling up tightly against her chest as she bowed her head, "Thank you so, _so_ much."

And thus, a child beloved by the Fates and the most powerful wizard on the earth reunited once again.

The hours quickly flew by as they each regaled the other with wild stories – full of bold embellishments, of course – of what they had been doing in each other's absence, talking tirelessly into the night and catching up as if they hadn't seen each other in years. However, the theme of merriment and good cheer soon faded away as their conversation turned to more darker and serious topics.

"…and that's _exactly_ what Tom is trying to do," came Albus' voice, layered with urgency after twenty minutes of heated debate with the intellectual prodigy in front of him.

"You're wrong. I don't think that's his plan," Ariana immediately refuted, "He needs so much influence within the Department of Magical Transportation that it's only possible if he–"

Albus suddenly interrupted her with a slicing wave of his hand, his eyes burning brighter as one particular thought catapulted to the top of his mind.

"Hold that topic. I've just had an epiphany," he announced before he struck a thinking pose, "From the evidence we've gathered so far about the state of Tom's current wherewithal… this can only mean one thing." He paused as he tapped his chin. "I believe… he wants to _nationalize_ the commodity market," he speculated slowly, his brow furrowing the harder he thought about it.

"Nationalize the commodity market?" Ariana echoed in surprise, "But… but he'll need nearly _full_ control over Wizengamot to even begin to think about that." She then tapped her lip thoughtfully as a few historical case studies popped up in her mind, "And besides, hasn't nationalization benefited the economy a few times before?"

"Nationalization is not uncommon in times of war, but has severe drawbacks," Albus argued as he brought up his fingers in a counting motion, "Firstly, it gives rise to the _principal-agent problem_ between politicians and corporate management – where each party acts in their own interests, leading to inefficiencies and ineffectiveness. Secondly, long term investment is out of the question as our Ministry spends its budget largely on education, health and defence – industry is last on their list. And finally, it makes the market less volatile."

Ariana gave a confused frown, her eidetic memory kicking into play as her mind rifled through a multitude of books she had read on governmental interference with private businesses, "Isn't it better if prices are less volatile? How is that a bad thing?" she wondered out loud.

"Volatility is what breathes life into the trading market. If there is no price change, there is no profit," Albus quickly elucidated, "Without going into too much detail, a highly volatile stock can provide almost infinite opportunities to trade on price swings; a bullish market is a healthy market."

Ariana grew even more confused from conflicting sources of information, "Hold on. Isn't our current market horribly inflated from the influx of Muggle money that has been pouring into our society?" she challenged, remembering the words of a very peculiar wizard she had met during James' birthday party.

Albus twitched slightly as the young girl hit the nail on the coffin, speaking with wisdom that belied her real age, "This is why the implementation of a crude _Laissez-faire_ system is the best we can hope for right now," he replied slowly, coming back to his main point.

The young witch rubbed her temples as the first signs of a headache appeared, turning inwards to her spiralling thoughts.

 _Albus keeps thinking short term. Why isn't he thinking about the far future as we've always been doing? It's almost as if he's rushing our plans along for some reason…_

 _Also, why is he wearing a glove on his left hand?_

"How exactly is all this connected with Voldemort knocking off all the Heads of the Sacred Twenty-Eight again?" she asked tiredly, alluding to the cabal of Pure-bloods that pulled all the strings in the shadows.

"It fits together like pieces of a puzzle," Albus patiently responded, "Tom first brainwashes notable and unsuspecting scions, then kills the current head of that particular family. After that, he lets the groomed heirs take their rightful place and thereby attains more seats in Wizengamot by proxy, which in _turn_ , gives him fertile ground for his machinations."

"He wants to create a war – then profit out of it," he added as an afterthought, reluctant to admit that he was impressed at the simple yet complex ingenuity of the Dark Lord's plans.

Ariana gave a low scoff, "All that time and effort, just to earn a few Galleons and Knuts?" she murmured disbelievingly, "Surely, this is only one side of the coin."

The aged wizard was about to reply but halted, his mouth clicking shut, "We'll continue this conversation during our next meeting with the Order," he started, the first signs of lethargy showing on his face, "I don't want to repeat myself twice; _time is precious_."

And with that, he deftly changed the topic. He reached down under his desk, bringing out a small wooden box and placing it gingerly atop the wooden surface that separated him and the young witch. He then carefully unlocked the seal on the box with a murmured spell to access the well-protected receptacle.

After stowing his wand away, he emptied the contents of the box on the surface of the table.

Every single muscle in Ariana's body froze as she gazed upon a terrible sight, one which only held the memories of wanton rage and destruction to her.

An invisible hand clasped over her mouth as her breathing stopped; she felt her ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate her lungs. Something akin to a deluge of icy water began to surround her every limb, slowly creeping higher until it passed her mouth and nose, suffocating her. Her world spun, and the ground felt as if it were melting under her feet.

A loud screech nearly caused Albus to jump out of his skin as a hysterical adolescent scrambled back and fell off her chair with a painful thump. It didn't end there, for she then leapt to her feet and stumbled backwards unsteadily without course or aim, only to stop when her spine hit a bookshelf on the wall.

"Get… get that _**thing**_ away from me," she hissed furiously, backed up in the corner of room and baring her teeth like a wounded animal. Her eyes were strangely glazed over, as if seeing two worlds at once: the tumultuous present and the unalterable past.

Confusion that once sat on Albus' face was replaced with a haunted look as he realized what had evoked such an extreme reaction, "Forgive me. I did not mean for you to see this," he murmured sorrowfully, hastily stowing away remnants of a destroyed diadem that were scattered across the wooden surface back from whence they came.

Even though Ariana had accepted that Voldemort was the once responsible for all the deaths she had caused last year, the graphic images of slain men and women whose life forces were extinguished by her very hand were stained eternal upon the twelve-year old's mind.

After the fragmented pieces of metal were fully swept away, Ariana slowly blinked as the pervading fog that sat on her eyes lessened, regaining function of her mind and body once more.

 _Wonderful._ Ariana thought bitterly once she was herself again. _Just wonderful._

 _Just what this stupid body needs, more panic attacks._

A presence then slinked stealthily into her vulnerable mindscape, reaching out with tendrils of seditious and pernicious influence. The girl was often bedevilled by this unknown entity when she least expected it, their whispers always carrying the same theme – a ghoulish obsession with death and decay.

 _Is there truly joy in this cursed existence you call life? You struggle on and on, but to what end? There is a way to make all the pain stop, you know._

 _Just take your wand and put it against your head–_

Gritting her teeth, she slammed an Occlumency shield down with all the mental force as she could muster. Though she had meagre training, it was enough to stamp out the voices entirely and reset her personality to a blank slate.

"Apologies for the outburst," she said emotionlessly as her body immediately relaxed, swiftly walking over to the chair she had upturned in her frenetic thrashing and righting it. She then elegantly sat down and gestured with one hand to the aged wizard as if nothing had just happened, "Please, continue."

Albus briefly bowed his head to hide something that flashed across his face, knowing exactly what the young girl had just done to suppress her emotions, before taking a deep breath and continuing with their conversation. He then picked up a large ring – the other item from the box – that looked like it had been cleaved in twain by a sword, a clean separation down the middle proof of it.

"This is an heirloom from the House of Gaunt, taken straight from the depths of the Riddle House," he revealed as he held the said object closer to the candlelight, "A very special ring that has passed from father to son for many generations; it was also a Horcrux."

Ariana's eyes widened infinitesimally from the news, her Occulumency shield still firmly in place. She then eyed the fractured ring carefully, "I take it it's been destroyed then?" she asked with a blank face, "I sense no Dark magic emanating from it."

The wizened wizard nodded just once in response.

"Great work, Albus," she expressionlessly intoned, a mask of apathy pulled tight over her face as she moved straight on to the next topic, "Which Horcrux shall we pursue next? Shall we extract the diary from bowels of Malfoy Manor or try to track down artifacts belonging to Hufflepuff and Slytherin?"

"I've located what seems to be a magically protected cave near Tom's old orphanage in London," Albus replied without pause, "I would like us to investigate it in a week from now, if that timing so suits you."

Ariana raised an eyebrow slightly from the automatic inclusion of her in the quest to destroy Voldemort's soul-sepulchres. Normally, Albus would insist that he was going alone and she had to beg and convince him to let her come.

The old wizard got the gist of her incredulous look. "For the sake of time, we will both be going." he said matter-of-factly, "We cannot afford to mess up now."

Ariana nodded evenly and prepared herself to leave, recognizing a clear dismissal in the other's tone. As she attempted to get up however, an outstretched hand stopped her at the last second. She tilted her head quizzically before sitting down into the chair from a command to stay.

She looked on wordlessly at one nervous-looking Albus, one that looked as if he was fighting something internal within the recesses of his mind, his eyes twitching, hands and knuckles weaving in and out each other, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, as if the next thing he was going to say was a terrible idea.

"In the future," came a voice tinctured with nervous inflections, "You said that I'd given you an invisibility cloak as a Christmas present, am I right?"

Ariana nodded wordlessly, a wave of physical and mental lethargy sweeping through her body as she struggled to keep her Occlumency shield in place and stay composed, not trusting her highly strung emotions tonight.

"Did… did the invisibility cloak ever talk to you?"

The adolescent blinked owlishly from the seemingly bizarre question, "What?" she blurted out.

"The cloak. What happened when you put it on? Did it try to make you do things that you didn't want to do? Did it have a voice? If so, what sort of voice did it have?" came forth a profusion of questions.

Ariana struck a contemplative pose for a few seconds before speaking, "Well, the cloak wasn't alive – if that's what you're asking. It never communicated with me at all," she replied truthfully before perking up, "Why? It is supposed to be magically sentient?"

Albus was about to respond but stopped as his eyes strayed over her shoulder to a large grandfather clock that stood solemnly against the wall, then giving a visible start as he realized the hour hand was indicating that it was nearly midnight.

"Remember this conversation, for I will answer your question the next time we meet," Albus said in a strangely heavy tone, "And when that happens, I shall then tell you of an old fairy tale. One of three brothers; one of prodigality, lust, and cowardice."

"Doesn't sound like much of a fairy tale now does it," Ariana muttered dispassionately, too tired to care at this point.

"The many untruths and truths that gnaw at our hearts will soon be revealed," Albus replied cryptically before gesturing to the door with his hand, "Now please, you need to rest. My apologies for not noticing the time."

Ariana nodded sleepily, glad that the long talk was over as she hopped to her feet, eager to jump into her soft confines of her bed.

"G'night Albus," she slurred slightly as she gave a tired wave, suppressing a yawn that threatened to take her to the land of dreams.

"Good night, Miss Potter," Albus said with a gentle smile, giving a small wave of his own.

Ariana froze.

A black rune – only visible to her eyes – slipped out from under the old wizard's gloved hand as it waved her goodbye, an inky residue of magic floating upwards until it eventually reached the ceiling where it evanesced into the darkness. All torpidity borne from her paroxysms vanished as her breath hitched, only now noticing that the odd look her friend had been constantly carrying on his face closely resembled one of constant pain.

"Albus… what's wrong with your hand?"

* * *

Albus froze for a millisecond before making sure the twinkle in his eyes were at their maximum effect, "What are you talking about?" he said in the most pleasant voice he could muster.

"Remember what you said," the young witch snapped, her patience oddly thin tonight, " _No lies between us_."

The aged headmaster held his grandfatherly look in place as he struggled to not show any emotions to the only person in his life he felt unwilling to argue against, "You look exhausted, my girl," he pointed out almost desperately, "Please, head back to your dormitory and get some much-needed rest."

What he was not prepared for however, was the small girl to suddenly sprint from her standing position and _leap_ over his large desk in a single stride, obviously magically assisted, and crash forcefully into him, sending both of them flying across the room. His indignant squawk of surprise was interrupted as he felt something soft behind him; a Cushioning Charm separated his old body from the ground, safeguarding his body from the fall.

The audacious offender however, was now seated upon on his chest with a look of renewed anger and fear on her face, her Occulumency – a cruel but necessary skill that he had once assisted her with – was all but absent as she rapaciously grabbed onto his left hand and wrenched his specially designed dragon-hide glove off in one swift move.

He saw her gasp in horror and awe as her eyes trailed upwards, looking at something only she could see, ensorcelled by whatever magic was leaking out from the black mark that lay etched upon his skin.

" _The same_ ," the young girl whispered in fear, her eyes widened, her breath now coming in ragged and harsh, " _The same as before_ ," she continued in a distant tone, looking closely at the decay of flesh and bone on his hand.

Albus frowned and stopped squirming, accepting the odd position they were in.

"What do you mean, _same as before_?"

The young witch ignored his question and jumped off his chest, starting to pace around on the spot and biting her nails as she muttered something unintelligible under her breath.

"Ariana?" Albus asked hesitantly, pushing himself off the floor into a sedentary position.

He called out a second time to the witch that shared the same name with his sister.

Only then did she visibly start and refocus on him, her piercing green eyes making him twitch unconsciously, almost as if they stared past his weary body and into his very soul.

"Yes?" she responded blankly, her mind obviously somewhere else.

"Inferring from your reaction, you've already seen this sort of magic in the future. Am I correct?" he asked lowly.

"Yes," the adolescent immediately replied, her mind refocusing as she knelt back down on the floor, "You had the same mark on your hand during my sixth year at Hogwarts – but you always bandaged it instead of covering it with a glove."

Albus raised an eyebrow from the new pieces of information.

 _Bandaging the wound has little to no effect. Perhaps the person who treated me in the future was a potions specialist?_

 _Although Horace is a Potions Master himself, his ability to create new and completely innovative rituals has always been second to none._

A bolt of despondency then shot through him as he realized that his current self had acted the in same way his future self would, inexorably succumbing to the dark calls of the Resurrection Stone – or was it the calls of the Horcrux? Before his train of thought digressed from the matter at hand, the young girl he treasured so dearly suddenly jumped up and started speaking excitedly **,** her eyes alight, smouldering with the first signs of an unquenchable fire.

" _I knew it!_ I recognize the runes from the black mark on your hand," she exclaimed excitedly as she gestured energetically, "I read a book last year called ' _Mastery of Multivariate Parselmagic'_ and it described runes exactly like the ones I'm seeing. In the book it says that this web of magic is…"

Albus blinked twice in confusion when the rest of her words suddenly turned unintelligible to him. After a good ten seconds of confusion of hearing nothing but strange grunts and hisses, he realized with a start that she was unknowingly speaking Parseltongue.

He sucked in his breath sharply.

 _Horace and I have spent many sleepless nights together, perusing through every single book housed in Hogwarts in an attempt to sate our wild curiosities, only to be denied the answer time and time again._

 _Can it truly be Parselmagic?_

It took a while, but he finally managed to mellow the visibly vibrating girl back into a more relaxed state, standing up himself and mollifying her with outstretched arms and a soothing voice. He had always liked to rest his arms on her shoulders: it reminded him of days of past, of good times, of innocent times.

"Now, my girl," Albus gently asked the young witch once the burst of energy had dampened, "I didn't catch any of that. Can you summarize what you just said?"

Ariana nodded seriously and said just one line back to him, a single sentence that would forever change the course of history as they knew it.

" _I know how to fix this."_

Albus' eyes bulged from the utterance, his grip on her small shoulders weakening as his body grew slack. His vision blurred as he swayed slightly on the spot from the deliverance of a complete feeling of helplessness that persistently sat atop his breast. He didn't even realize that the young witch had raced out of his office – fervently saying something about bringing a book back – for his mind had begun to accelerate at a terrifying speed, creating and destroying scenarios within seconds of each other in a raging maelstrom that dominated his thought processes.

A good two minutes later, the Child of Flame – a moniker he once remembered Fawkes using – bounded back energetically into his office with a small bag strapped around one shoulder, accompanied by a large codex that floated obediently in the air behind her.

She was panting heavily. "Hurry up, Al. Come… sit down on the floor… with me," she called out between laboured breaths as she gestured frantically with one hand, placing the other hand on her heaving chest – obvious proof that she had been running nonstop.

Albus' countenance grew firm as he was wrenched out of his churning thoughts, energy then infusing back into his old bones as he crossed the entirety of the room in under a second. He then kneeled down beside the impassioned girl, silent and curious as he patiently waited for the young witch to start elucidating the current situation.

The young witch's face was donning a focused look as she pointed to the floating book with her wand, her eyes glowing as tapped it just once and muttered something under her breath. Her magic then caused the book to snap open and furiously flip through its pages to eventually come to the exact page she wanted, her previous magic still binding the book in place and kept it levitating under the gentle illumination of his office.

" _There_ ," she proclaimed proudly after scanning a certain page, pointing to a sinister looking symbol that resembled two snakes entwined around each other, "Look closely at the runic architecture, it is the _exactly_ the same as the one on your skin."

Albus automatically looked down at his blackened hand. To his eyes however, all he could see was a smudged, dark stain; there were no symbols of any kind.

"Parselmagic is intrinsically multivariate in nature," she lectured with the tone of a cultured scholar, not waiting for a reply, "This means it always requires more than one source of magic to activate it. Ranging from slight augmentations to your wand – of which I've experimented with – to using live animal sacrifices to act as conduits; it is a magic like no other. The complex framework behind each lovingly crafted spell harkens back to the Tongues of Old if an incantation is needed."

Albus gave a small grin despite the situation.

 _After living for nearly ninety-five years on this planet, I'm still learning new things every day._ He thought brightly to himself, suppressing the desire to do a little jig on the spot.

"Tongues of Old?" he then asked curiously, settling into a more comfortable position on the floor.

The Child of Flame's eyes burned bright as she described ancient and arcane knowledge that had only previously been privy to members of a dedicated cult that followed in the footsteps of the great Herpo the Foul – the earliest known Parselmouth. Ever-so often Albus had to interrupt her, for Ariana was unconsciously switching back and forth between English and Parseltongue, borne from her inability to properly delineate her thoughts and to find an analogous example in her mother tongue, the minutiae of ophidian spellwork seemingly too complex for her to explain using the words the English language possessed.

Twenty more minutes of crucial discourse passed, imparting Albus with arguably the world's most secretive information, further expanding his ever-growing lexicon of magical knowledge.

"…and _finally,_ we can focus on the practical part," Ariana declared loudly, fully finishing the theory behind what they were about to do.

Again, not waiting for Albus' input, she opened the bag she brought back with her and unceremoniously dumped their contents onto the hard stone that lined his office floor. The wizard narrowed his eyes when he spotted a few items of among the bag's contents that sent warning bells off in his head; broken sticks of chalk, stumpy candles and a very, _very_ sharp knife.

The combination of these three items could only lead to one thing – and one thing only.

"Ariana, what are you doing?" he barked, the sharp order causing the girl to stop what she was doing and look up at him with a startled expression.

The adolescent frowned, pointing to an incomprehensible squiggle on one of the pages in the floating book, "There, it says we need to draw a pentagram using white chalk and then light ten candles–"

" _Stop_ ," Albus commanded sharply, causing her to snap her mouth shut with a loud click. He then took a deep breath. "This is magic related to a blood sacrifice, is it not?" he continued even though he knew the answer, the subtle firmness and accusatory cadence in his tone just enough to affect the young witch.

Ariana rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, "I probably mentioned it earlier… I think?" she laughed nervously.

Albus squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the top of his brow in consternation.

"Listen to me, Ariana," he implored gravely when he looked back at her, "Blood magic is the darkest branch of magic on this planet. Second to that are the forbidden rituals." He paused as everything clicked into place in his mind. "What you just described to me is a _blood magic ritual_. An unholy amalgamation of two of the foulest magics to ever exist."

To his dismay, all the girl did was to tilt quizzically her head at him, uncharacteristically holding a perfectly calm and collected face.

"And?"

All traces of levity were gone from Albus' face. "And I think this is a bad idea," he said grimly, suppressing memories of when he first dabbled in the forbidden schools of magic, "When one performs blood magic, he or she will then cross a terrible threshold."

Ariana unfortunately, had caught on to him, "When did you first perform the blood rites?" she asked, morbid curiously shining her eyes.

Albus turned his face away, unbridled shame and guilt rising in within him as a voice he had thought was locked away deep within his brain broke free, mocking him, goading him, toying with his aged mind in their quest to inflict as much pain and suffering as possible.

 _Go on then, answer the Child._

 _How many men and women did you murder in your quest for power, Albus? How many families did you tear apart? How many friends did you stab in the back? How many_ _ **children**_ _did you–_

"I walked down that dark path a long time ago," he revealed almost inaudibly, so quiet it was nearly lost upon the gentle breeze that coursed through his office, "And I have paid the price for it ever since."

He cleared his throat noisily. "Look," he continued in a carefully controlled voice, "Neither of us fully understand what we're getting into here. There are a thousand and one things that could go wrong if we choose to go through with this."

To his further distress, Ariana remained unfazed as she shrugged wordlessly before starting to draw the pentagram without his permission on the floor with the pieces of white chalk.

"I don't get why you're trying to dissuade me. All I'm trying to do is to remove the curse on your hand," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, continuing to draw white lines in long, controlled strokes.

Her words rang true in his mind, causing all retort to die on his lips and fade away as he physically faltered.

 _Even if I_ _ **could**_ _be healed, there is a small chance of potentially dooming this girl to a path of Darkness._ _Is it really worth it?_

A single line then reverberated around in his head, causing him to sit up ramrod straight.

 _For the greater good._

"I'll do it," Albus blurted out loudly before he could stop himself, his face blanching from the utterance of his Freudian slip.

To his extreme confusion however, all the young witch did in response to his admission was to slump over dramatically and groan loudly in exasperation.

"Albus," she whined almost childishly as she pouted, "You just ruined everything."

"Err… what?"

Ariana's apathy then vanished as emotions once again appeared on her face, "You said the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear," she grumbled, annoyed that her plan had been set back, "I needed you to unwillingly participate in this ritual. Blood is always stronger when it is _forcibly taken_."

Albus' pupils dilated as old memories threatened to resurface once again, "How do you know that?" he whispered.

"Courtesy of Voldemort," the girl replied in a dulled toned before giving a pointed look, "My fourth year, remember? Ol' Tom resurrected himself with my blood."

Albus composed himself and gave a small nod, recalling the harrowing ordeal she had once recounted to him. The next few minutes were then completely and utterly devoid of noise – apart from the faint scratching of limestone against granite, the soft crepitations of candle wicks burning, and the hair-raising sounds of steel grinding on a whetstone.

In the end, the pentagram was ready, candles alight at every point of where lines of white chalk intersected. After everything and everyone was in their correct position, Ariana then rolled up her sleeve and picked up the knife, brandishing it towards herself in a non-threatening manner.

"We're not using my blood?" Albus said in surprise, who was now seated directly opposite the young witch, his blackened hand placed securely on the floor at one pointed end of the pentagram.

"Change of plans," Ariana informed in a business-like tone, angling the knife perpendicularly on her open palm, "We're going to use my blood instead."

"Why–"

"Since I can't forcibly take your blood anymore, we'll just have to settle with my blood _willingly given_."

"But–"

"In Merlin's name, the book said it's fine," she snapped hotly, her patience finally running out. The girl then realized she had just done and gave the old wizard an apologetic look, who nodded back in full understanding.

"Hold on. There's something I missed," Ariana added before putting down the knife, frowning as something suddenly caught her eye. A handwrit line was scribbled hastily on the bottom of the page.

"It reads: For the best effect, use the blood of a… catamite?" She tilted her head curiously at a word she had never seen before, "Albus, what does 'catamite' mean?"

"Ignore that instruction," came the sharp reply.

"What–"

" _I said ignore it."_

Gazing into the stormy recesses of the old wizard's eyes, she eventually acquiesced, filing this moment away in her mind. Her piercing eyes never left Albus' as she just asked one more question before she began the rite.

"Professor… do you trust me?"

The world was absolutely silent before his lips parted.

"Entirely, my girl."

With that reassurance bolstering her confidence and spirit, she picked up the knife from the floor, fingers trembling ever so slightly as she prepped herself for a type of ritual that was completely out of her comfort zone – not to mention one strictly forbidden by the Ministry and carried incredibly dangerous repercussions if she messed anything up.

She held the sharp end of the quivering knife against her palm, held her breath, and then _sliced_.

A whimper of pain escaped from her lips as blood burst forth like a dam out from her open wound, the rivers of red meandering down her wrists and dripping onto the floor, the viscous liquid then guided as they flowed along the lines of drawn chalk of the entire pentagram until the entirety of it was saturated.

Satisfied that the first step was complete, Ariana then began to recite off the floating book in front of her, hissing in the noble language of Parseltongue as she writhed sinusoidally in situ akin to a moulting snake – but not straying an inch from her seated position.

The hair on Albus' arms stood up on end as the air thrummed with powerful and unseen magic, consolidating like a fog within confines the forbidden ritual they were performing. The putrid smell of decaying flesh mingled with the stagnant air of his office, the miasma accompanied by a noise that was too high in frequency for humans to hear – calling to the more ancient powers that lingered in this world as it insonified the room. His moon-spectacled glasses began to vibrate as it reached their natural frequency, bouncing up and down on his face as if he were riding a carriage on a bumpy road.

And thus, the ritual took its course, one with an old wizard trying to not squirm or shuffle, focusing intensely as he kept his cursed hand stable on its position on the bloodied chalk. As each minute passed, the young witch's hissing grew in intensity and volume, up to a point where it grated upon his aged heart and made his skin crawl, making him wish he could cover his ears and blot out the unearthly noises.

Albus grimaced internally as he thought about the situation.

 _Although Ariana is trying so very hard, it is very unlikely that this counter-ritual will succeed. Inflicting a curse upon someone is easy. To remove a curse however, is another issue altogether. The magic and willpower needed to remove this curse is far beyond the current power and knowledge Ariana possesses._

 _Perhaps it was wrong of me to humour her–_

Albus gasped as he felt something wet touch his hand, the physical contact wrenching him out of his brooding thoughts. Glancing downwards, he hummed in morbid fascination at the sight that greeted his eyes.

The gelatinous liquid on the floor was slowly creeping towards him.

In the darkness the blood barely shone red, instead under the flickering orange candlelight above it was almost a sickly blackish-gold. The blood didn't gush in a constant flow, but rather rippled in perfect rhythm with the beating of his heart. It came thick and strong, flowing across his fingers as they lay flat on the floor. He felt the blood then advance over the top of his hand, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than his own skin.

" _DON'T MOVE!"_ Ariana screamed in panic when he instinctively tried to pull away.

Obeying the frantic command, Albus kept his every part of his body absolutely still, letting whatever was happening to him happen. He eventually lost track of what the blood was doing to his hand for it had surged up his arm en masse, entirely coating it in a turgid, roiling mass that was swirling around akin a raging whirlpool.

After exactly thirty seconds had passed, the nerve-wracking ordeal abated and finally came to an end, the blood coagulating as its cyclic motion slowly reduced in velocity until it reached zero, upon which the liquid lost all of its impetus and finally fell back to the stained floor with gravity acting as their pathfinder.

The sight that then greeted Albus' eyes was one he couldn't have expected in a million years.

 _No… impossible._

"What..." Albus trailed off weakly as he raised his left hand up to his face, his mind reeling and unable to comprehend or process the images the scene was sending to his eyes.

 _This… this is_ _ **IMPOSSIBLE**_.

His once cursed hand now bore no traces of damage on its skin of any kind. He turned over his pink hand over and over again in a frenzied manner under the gentle illumination in the room, his frantic eyes trying to discern for any dark specks or residues of the curse that previously engulfed his hand, almost as if in denial of what had just transpired.

"H-How?" he gasped breathlessly as he snapped his head back to an exhausted but smug looking witch, "Your magic is nowhere near powerful enough to revert this curse."

"Give… give me one second," Ariana said in a faltering voice. She hastily pulled out two large phials of what seemed to be Blood-Replenishing Potions from her bag and greedily gulping them both down without pause in-between. She wiped her mouth as colour infused back into her sallow face, although the large dark rings around her eyes told another story altogether – physical and magical exhaustion were nearly causing her to collapse on the spot.

"Recall the arithmetic axioms of Parseltongue we discussed earlier," she reminded in a slightly stronger voice, "Parselmagic magic can only be undone with Parselmagic. Combined with blood magic, its strength was amplified tenfold," she explained as succinctly as she could.

"I used my blood as a secondary source of magic, while my magic counted as the first," she continued, looking extremely pleased with herself, "It was actually very simple to dismantle the runic structure – all I had to do was to first see it."

Albus' thoughts were still in turmoil from what had just transpired, temporarily ignoring his still speaking saviour as he cast spell upon spell on his skin to check for any lingering indications of Tom's vile magic in his body. After what seemed like an eternity later, he stopped what he was doing as realization fully sunk into his old bones: he was cured.

He was about to explode with a jubilant cheer but stopped at the last second when he saw the person who had just given him a second chance in life was swaying dangerously where she sat. He frantically leapt forward to catch a falling girl – one who had just lost the battle against her overwhelming fatigue.

With one final burst of energy, Ariana grinned weakly as she looked up at him, snuggling into the softness of his velvety robes.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she mumbled as her eyelids began to droop, her consciousness fading as it guided her to the realm of dreams, "You were destined to live for the next two decades."

" _And so you shall_."

* * *

 _Next evening_

Ariana was humming happily to herself as she skipped down a lengthy flight of stairs, the joyous bounce in her gait revealing her current mood. Her small feet never missed a single step, never stumbling once as the echoing taps of leather upon granite played a musical tune under the gentle coolness of twilight.

 _All is well in the world._ She thought blissfully to herself.

 _All is so perfectly, damnably, well._

When her legs eventually brought her to a set of brown and study wooden doors, she purposely slowed her pace down. Upon reaching her destination, she turned slightly wary, opting to peek through the crack of the doorway instead of openly entering, as if scouting for something – or someone.

She gave a satisfied nod after her piercing green eyes surveyed the room as best she could, ascertaining that the Hospital Wing was still empty as it was on the previous day. This was due to the fact that only one day of the new year of schooling had elapsed, for the beds would soon be full of intrepid first-years that had ventured too far into the Forbidden Forest, jaded seventh-years that had tested spells on one another, unfortunate students that had been injured by exploding potions, and all others that lay in-between.

The wooden doors suddenly swung inward, interrupting her quiet musing and causing her to let out a high-pitched squeak of surprise as she lurched forward, her body no long supported by the pieces of wood. Her yelp of panic was then cut off when she staggered face-first into something rather warm and soft.

"Oh, hello Miss Pever– pardon me, Miss Potter," came a gentle and familiar voice that floated down from above.

The said adolescent was confused for the briefest seconds before she recognized who was speaking. Then, without warning, she leaned forward just a bit further and engulfed a person who was literally saved her life in more ways than one with just one simple gesture: an all-encompassing hug – well, encompassing as far as her small arms went.

"I missed you so much, Madam Pomfrey," Ariana burst out breathlessly, her radiant smile partnering with the tight hug completely and utterly melting the heart of the older witch.

"As you, I, child," the Healer murmured fondly after they detached. She then placing on steady hand on the visibly vibrating adolescent and guided her into the emptiness of the Hospital Wing, a lazy flick of her wand shutting the doors behind them with a muted bang.

As the witches worked through the motions as they had previous done every full moon so far for Ariana's monthly ailment – bar when she was sojourned at Godric's Hollow, they caught up with one another within that time. One spirited and animated in all her motions, while the other trying her hardest not to chuckle at the endearing display of youthful expression.

Now, Poppy Pomfrey was a woman who was married to her work. Entirely devoted and dedicated to her vocation, there was not a single day that went by without her brilliant mind solving diagnostic or prognostic cases that had been sent in from St. Mungo's Hospital. With no lovers, children, or close friends to distract her, her only goal in life was to save as many people as physically possible. Not even letting herself get attached to patients, she was a hard woman by all standards.

However, it was times like these, ones of gentle conversation and lilting laughter with this rather peculiar girl, that the middle-aged Mediwitch cherished with all her heart.

"…and then I grabbed the Snitch right out of James' face!" Ariana chattered expressively, "You wouldn't believe the look on…"

"Is that so?" Poppy chuckled, only half-listening to the rambling witch, just content in basking the sound of the child's voice, a soothing tune that instilled a sense of serenity within her.

She then made sure everything was in position once the younger witch was snugly tucked into bed. "Now, a question before we begin," she gently interrupted the lively girl, "Did the special spell which Professor Slughorn invented work adequately whilst you were at the Potters?"

Ariana nodded affirmatively, "The spell made my stomach feel a bit funny for a few hours," she answered truthfully, "But apart from that everything else was fine."

"That's good to hear," Poppy paused, "If you'd like, we can start with your proper treatment now."

After giving another nod, the young girl then unloosened the muscles in her body and relaxed into the softness of the hospital bed as she prepared for a full day's sleep – a side effect of this particular ritual.

Poppy began to chant softly over her patient that lay supine, swishing and weaving her wand elegantly in the air as she drew upon the large recesses of her magical core, invoking restorative powers of a legendary status that would cause many a Muggle to wage war over it if they knew of its ineffable existence.

The Mediwitch suddenly felt something wrong in her spellworking and cancelled what she was doing at the very last second. She frowned deeply, ignoring Ariana's confused face as she waved her wand a second time, but this time casting a broad-spectrum diagnostic spell instead, conjuring a polychromatic halo that encircled the hospital bed, a bust of beautiful colours that resembled an aurora borealis – but to Poppy, it was anything _but_ beautiful, for it told another story entirely.

Pushing past the lustre of flavours that ranged from mahogany red and yellow ochre, the ones that showed an extensive history of torture and abuse, her eyes finally located onto what was besetting her attempts.

"Miss Potter," she finally said in quiet voice, "You… won't be needing this ritual anymore."

Ariana blinked in confusion, "W-What?" she spluttered loudly, "But if I don't do this–"

"Let me clarify," the Mediwitch interrupted not unkindly, "For some reason, your magic is no longer rejecting your menstrual cycle. It is no longer trying to harm you in any way or form."

Ariana's eyebrows raised almost to the top of her head in shock, her brilliant mind absorbing and processing what the older witch had just said in just under a second.

"That's… that's _great_ ," she gasped breathlessly when realization finally sank in, her body sagging with relief, her muscles almost audibly groaning with relief from the first sliver of respite that had ever come their way in this world.

After a closer inspection at the panoply of colours, the experienced Mediwitch came to more well-defined conclusion.

"Hold on, my diagnosis was only partially right," she announced, speaking quickly so the girl wouldn't misconstrue her and panic, "Your magic wasn't rejecting your cycle… but rather was just _confused_ by it, refusing to integrate with physical changes brought on by puberty."

"Regardless, think nothing more of this matter," Poppy continued, the relief on her face mirroring the look held by the would-be convalescent, "I'll carefully study the curious case of your body's magical mishap in my own time."

She then murmured under her breath so quietly, thinking the younger witch was out of earshot.

" _I didn't think it was possible but… my dear girl, your body is finally healed."_

The Mediwitch then smiled beautifully, tucking her wand back in her dress, "You may dress yourself, my dear," she said gently, "My beds house only the sick and weary: you are now neither." After seeing no movement from wide-eyed girl, she then clapped her hands authoritatively, "Come on, chop chop."

The words jolted Ariana back to reality, wrenching her from her mindscape and causing her to yank off the hospital gown she was wearing in a very unladylike manner, down to her undershirt and pants. As she changed back into her day-to-day clothes – her privacy intact by a screen around them, a voice suddenly permeated the air.

"Miss Potter, you may or may not know this, but you should really be wearing a _bra_."

Ariana froze for a millisecond, all her previous emotions of joy abruptly replaced with utter mortification as her face flushed scarlet.

"I err… forgot to wear it," she quickly lied in panic, unwilling to admit that she'd completely forgotten about certain pieces of advice her grandmother had so painstakingly educated her on.

"Well, try not to forget, Miss Potter."

Ariana gulped audibly as she fervently nodded.

Waiting until Madam Pomfrey's attention was diverted elsewhere, she pulled back the collar of her thin undershirt and peered downwards at the accursed sight that was brought to her attention, glaring balefully at the nascent hills and valleys of flesh and blood.

 _Just wonderful._ Ariana sullenly thought as she resumed with dressing herself.

 _Second puberty. Just what I need._

After all was done and dusted, a quiet round of thanks, a tight hug, and a tender pat on the head concluded the meeting. Thus, Ariana exited the Hospital Wing with a much brighter look on her face than when she first entered, borne from the plan on sleeping solidly for the next ten hours in the warmth of her own bed this time.

"I'm cured," Ariana sang gaily, skipping down a deserted hallway back to her dormitory, "No more potions, no more spells, no more–"

She abruptly stopped singing as she felt something odd snap within her.

Dismissing it as a figment of her imagination after a brief second, she resumed her buoyant gait and cheerful song of celebration. A second bout however, caused her to stop whatever she was doing entirely.

As she was patting herself down to double-check there was nothing wrong with her, she eventually located the problem: her arm was itchy.

"Odd," she muttered to herself, absently scratching the offending spot and letting out a moan of pleasure from the action.

After a few seconds, she realized something: her arm was still itchy.

Noticing she was near a bathroom, she quickly ascertained it was the girl's one before hopping into it, hoping that temporarily coating her arm in hot water would ease the bizarre feeling. She noted with annoyance when she entered that the Hogwarts bathrooms were almost always in a state of dilapidation. From the old tarnished mirrors to the chipped enamel in the sinks, these were just the start of the many problems the facilities held.

Grumbling under her breath, magically heated water sprayed from a loose faucet over Ariana's almost translucent skin, thin and without any discernible pigment. Seconds passed into minutes, and she didn't realize what that she was still scratching, even under the hot water. She had only noticed what she was doing when the presence of another fluid mixed in with the water, the lack of light turning the once transparent liquid a murky grey.

Her nails had scratched past her skin – a wound was now exposed, dribbling blood.

Rolling at her eyes at losing track of something so simple, the young witch reached down within her vast wells of magic and angled her other hand appropriately, summoning a ball of scintillating starlight – Old Magic – and launching it towards her open wound in order to heal it.

What came next was something so astonishing, so mind-numbing, that the young girl couldn't quite understand what was happening at first glance.

The wound didn't heal.

Rubbing her tired eyes with disbelief, she tried again, this time creating an even larger sphere of power.

Same response.

Ariana let out an exasperated sigh at the situation. "Dammit, why aren't you healing me stupid ball of light," she muttered crossly, cursing the unpredictability of her secondary source of magic as she turned off the flow of tap water.

As she brought up the tiny wound up to her face to inspect it further, she noticed just one thing – and one thing only. There was a black spot on her skin of her left hand. She thought nothing of it first, until the black stain started to grow, and grow, and _grow_. Spellbound in morbid horror, she watched the stain proliferate and become exponentially larger until finally a black rune oozed out from her skin: one which looked like two snakes entwined with each other.

Her breath hitched, her brilliant mind realizing what was happening and what was causing it to happen.

"Multivariate Parselmagic," she whispered in growing terror to the reflection in the mirror, referring to the ritual she performed the previous night, "My _body_ was acting as the real conduit; my blood was merely an _extension_ of my body."

"The plan was to let my blood absorb the curse and evaporate along with the web of magic. But since my blood was tied to my body, Albus' curse was instead…" she shuddered, unwilling to finish the sentence out loud.

… _passed onto me._

She felt sweat beginning to drench her pale skin, she felt a throbbing in her eyes, she felt muted screams of those long dead vibrate in her ears, she felt the rapid thumping of her young heart within her heaving chest. As her world teetered on the edge of blackness, her only consolation was that no one around to hear her screams of despair.

And thus, Ariana James Potter, a child beloved by the stars themselves, slowly began to die.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 32**

Nothing worked.

Pain-numbing potions, bone reparative potions, tissue regenerative potions, and all others of their ilk didn't work. After the standard healing potions failed, Ariana hid under the cover of a Disillusionment Charm and scoured the dark recesses of Slughorn's private cabinet as well as Madam Pomfrey's secret cache of emergency potions. Yet again, potion after potion had little to no effect to ease the curse that was desecrating her body.

Ancient tomes, forbidden codices and decrepit grimoires gave her nothing of value. Her vast knowledge, accrued after years of reading and research, was useless, for her eidetic memory could not locate a single instance where she had chanced upon information on dispelling this type of curse. The Room of Requirement was also completely worthless to her, as was the Restricted Section of Hogwarts Library, for the books they housed refused to prostrate themselves and offer her the answers she was so desperately looking for.

In bouts of rationality, she tried to recreate the same blood magic ritual as she had previously done for Albus recently. To her dismay, after rereading the relevant chapter in that book again, she realized that the _ritualist_ needed to be fluent in Parseltongue – not the recipient. So, unless she somehow tricked or persuaded another user of Parseltongue into reversing the consequences of her fatal mistake, that path of action was null to her.

After many more hours of fruitlessly searching for a cure, she then turned back to her secondary source of magic, one which was untamed, wild and refused to be caged – Old Magic, a power that was birthed from her transgressions against nature. No matter how many times she summoned a swirling ball of light and blasted it against her blacked hand, the curse would not go away; however, a sliver of respite was that it dampened the agonizing pain down to a biting sting – only if she reapplied the orb of light every ten minutes or so, if not the physical torment would return.

As the day waned, the cursed waxed; and the canvas of her body, one carrying angry splashes of red and black from trials and tribulations of both past and present, was defiled once again.

A full day had passed since the latest addition to the Potter family had discovered the aftereffects of her botched ritual. She found herself wandering around aimlessly as the coolness of next night fell, still undercover with her spell of invisibility as she cradled her left hand against her trembling chest. Her entire hand was now fully blacked as her bone tissue slowly died from Dark magic cutting off the supply of blood to the affected areas.

 _It hurts_. She wanted to whisper as she stumbled along, but it took too much strength for her to even open her mouth. All hope had been extinguished from her soul as she realized that if the bastion of power that was Albus Dumbledore couldn't remove this curse, no one living in this world could. She also realized that at the rate the curse was metastasizing, one that was far more aggressive on her weaker body than on its previous host, it would not be long until it fully spread to the rest of her body.

After many more hours of her brain being disconnected with her body, the Potter heiress' mind finally decided to reconnect with reality. She realized with a start that she had been standing motionless in the Owlery for quite some time.

Drowning in the sound of beating wings and contented croons from owls and other exotic birds of a passerine nature, voices started to whisper in her head. They were loud now, louder than ever before. They were also… comforting somehow, in her dark hour of need. Almost delirious, she began to chant out loud, repeating whatever the voices were saying in her mind.

"I-I deserve this," she slurred, speaking with difficulty, her tongue feeling as if it was tied into a knot, "It's b-better me than Albus; the world needs him m-more."

Almost in a dream state, unable to control her body, she realized only halfway that she was climbing up to the top of the Owlery, grimacing the whole time as her pain reached almost unbearable heights. It was as if someone had attached a live wire to each her nerves, causing her body to violently twitch as pulsations of Dark magic coursed through her.

A mist fell on the young girl's eyes when she finally reached the highest stone parapet in Hogwarts, stumbling to her feet and standing silently as she swayed precariously in the wind. Her heart, once drenched by fear, did not throb any longer. Strangely, she could feel her cheeks getting wet with tears, though she didn't know why. Her breaths were coming in faltering gasps now as her consciousness ebbed.

The voices then came one last time.

… _end all the pain…_

… _end all the suffering…_

… _just take one last step…._

Her will – seduced by words of false deliverance, her body – wracked under the onslaught of physical trauma, her mind – broken from finding no possible way out, she then did the unthinkable: **she gave up**.

And thus, Ariana fell.

Her perception of time distorted, slowing everything down until there was nothing left, only her and the midnight sky above, one that seemed to swallow her whole. Her hand reached out, kissing the blanket of stars, grasping the endless canvas of black. Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. Falling in the air, she calmly closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the infinite, to whatever her next Great Adventure would bring in the grand journey that was life.

Then impact.

She heard the loudest crack she had ever heard in her life, almost as if the world itself had split open. She felt her body twist and knew instantly that her spine had completely shattered. She felt bones in other parts of her body move in a way they shouldn't, jangled. There was no pain however, just gentle warmth. Warmth from blood that was seeping from skin that was seconds ago smooth, but was now torn, reddened, weeping.

Unable to even breathe as her lungs turned inoperable, the flames of her life slowly snuffed out, leaving a sombre thought circulating through her mind as it began to systematically shut down.

 _I'm sorry everyone… I just wasn't good enough…._

She had often died in dreams. Terrifying as they were in her mindscape, it was completely different in reality. In the mortal realm, it was kind of… peaceful. As her vision gradually faded away to nothingness, the gentle warmth grew, and she welcomed the encroaching oblivion with open arms, greeting Death as a friend just one more time.

 _I'm ready to go home._

* * *

"Home," an old wizard murmured softly under his breath, "Home at last."

Rows of tombstones stood erect in silence to his left and right, in front and behind, like a sea of the dead. Some were crumbled with the weathering of centuries, some were smooth marble with new black writing and laid with floral tributes. Most though, were overgrown and unkempt, for even their mourners had joined them under the clay soil.

All except one; one grave was neat and sparklingly clean, standing out from the rest like a shining sun.

The old wizard gave a melancholic sigh as he laid down a posy of roses atop that particular grave, bowing his head and reading the epitaph just one more time, even though he knew it back and forth, for he himself was the one who had inscribed it. It was short, simple, and poignant.

 _In loving memory of Ariana._

 _A soul that gave so much and received so little._

 _May your spirit rest in peace._

Footsteps behind the first wizard broke him out of his quiet introspection, one that had crossed an entire gamut of emotions. He refused to turn around, opting to stand solemnly where he was as one hand gently rested atop the gravestone, holding that pose until the new arrival finally decided to speak.

"You look like shit."

Albus smiled wanly at the familiar voice, pulling himself out of his memories before finally turning around to address the person who had uttered the remark.

"Aberforth," he greeted as pleasantly as he could, "How've you been doing?"

The addressed wizard sneered, "Spare me the platitudes, Albus. We are both here for only one thing – and one thing only. Nothing else matters."

Aberforth Dumbledore, younger brother to the arguably most powerful wizard alive, seemed to have a permanent snarl etched onto his face. Long, matted hair coloured grey wreathed his head in an angry mess, giving him a feral look. Unlike Albus' deep blue eyes, his were bright blue. They crackled and sparkled, almost as if was electricity coursing through his irises. His clothes followed no vogue and looked like it was in a state of perpetual untidiness, clearly signalling his outward appearance was the last thing on this particular wizard's mind.

Albus bowed his head in respect to the wishes of his brother, stepping back and letting the other wizard walk up to the grave and place a single rose atop the cold, hard slab of stone he had been resting his hand on. After a short period of respectful silence, his brother turned his head towards him with a gaze that one could only describe as lifeless.

"You betrayed me, and every last thing that I held dear to me," Aberforth started woodenly, no restraint in his voice, "Even to this day, it continues; your cruelty rivals that of a Dark Lord."

Albus struggled to rein in wild emotions that swept through his body. On this particular day of remembrance, the day that his sister had died so many years ago, Aberforth would usually turn up slightly inebriated, ranting and cursing at him for hours on end until his energy had been spent. This year however, his words were cold and biting, striking the mass of guilt that sat upon his very soul.

Aberforth gave him no chance to respond.

"You still remember it, don't you? All those years ago," he carried on emotionlessly, "How I battled both you and Gellert at the same time? How you let him torture on me over and over again until I nearly went mad? How I protected Ariana from the darkness you wielded, shielding her eyes from the rivers of blood that you yourself created?"

All traces of anger vanished from Albus' system as memories rose to the forefront of his mind, only to be replaced by undying shame, never-ending regret, and an old sorrow.

"I… I know I'm not worthy to call myself your brother," he murmured sorrowfully, his guilt-ridden eyes clashing against the stormy recesses of the other, "I know I should've protected you more. You, mother, father and… _her._ "

Surprise sprung across Aberforth's face before he could hide it.

"What game are you trying to play this time?" he hissed loudly, trembling in anger and confusion as his brother admitted his own faults out loud for the very first time, "You don't know what penitence means. You don't know what selflessness means. You do not know what _love_ means; can you even comprehend concepts of emotional conveyance?"

"All you know is control, manipulation, order… _obedience._ How many do you continue to sacrifice for the greater good? How much more must you destroy to attain new powers? You think it's a coincidence that your magical strength and influence remains uncontested even after a century?"

Albus flinched, turning his face to the side, staying silent from the verbal barrage and accepting whatever came his way. His brother was usually never this vocal – apart from this day of the year.

There was a certain cruelty to Aberforth's voice in his next taunt.

"Still trying to buy your way into heaven?"

"What?" Albus gasped out loud, unable to keep silent from the bizarre question.

"You heard me. Still trying to do _good deeds_ like a _good little wizard_? Hoping to find salvation in Purgatory?" Aberforth sneered before his eyes lit up dangerously, "Whatever place you think our sister is in, you will not join her after death," he intoned lowly, "You will never lay eyes on her again. This, I guarantee."

Albus clenched his teeth in anger, trying to calm himself down with the help of Occulumency, a mental barrier to reap dominion over his emotions. After successfully pulling himself together, he began to speak emphatically, his powerful voice rising on the highs and skirting on the lows.

"I've battled, _and won_ , against a Dark Lord at the peak of his power, freeing the lost people of Europe from the clutches of mad wizard. I have saved _tens of thousands_ of lives as I've dismantled new, potential Dark wizards and witches that could've posed a danger to our people and homeland."

"I have pushed forward _hundreds_ of policies at Wizengamot that allow Muggles, Muggle-borns, Goblins, and many more creatures to roam free in our world, untouched and unscathed by the anachronistic ideals of a generation past. I've donated _millions_ of Galleons to war victims, orphanages and charities in and around the country."

Albus was trembling, "These are just the _start_ of my past ventures. You dare question my devotion to the Light?" he said in an uncharacteristically hard voice.

To his shock, all his brother did was laugh in response. A harsh, mocking cackle that sounded like layers of sandpaper scratching against each other, the noise grinding unpleasantly on his aged heart.

"F-For a second, you had me worried," Aberforth rasped, unable to fully recover from his laughing fit, "I-I really thought you had somehow changed. But from the way you spoke about your previous… _conquests,_ ones that you refer to as valorous deeds, you quickly reminded me of who I'm speaking to."

"You will forever be the master puppeteer, no matter how you try to mask it, pulling the strings on everything and everyone you touch," he chuckled humourlessly, "You will remain incorrigible, even if Judgement Day descends upon us."

Albus deflated.

 _No. I_ _ **have**_ _changed_. He wanted to say, but his tongue wouldn't move. _I know what I will become in the future. A man even worse than who I currently am. A man with neither affection nor pity in his heart, treating those around him like chess pieces, discarding them once their value had been expended._

 _I'd vowed to a certain young girl that I would_ _ **not**_ _become the man of that future._

 _Brother… please… forgive me._

His mouth moved, trying to echo his thoughts onto the physical realm.

"Brother… please…."

His tongue twisted at the last second, "…c-calm down," he finished with difficulty, unable to follow through with what he wanted to convey.

Aberforth sneered coldly and turned on the spot, already walking away and ignoring whatever his brother was stuttering about. Their yearly custom of placing their sister's favourite flower atop her gravestone was complete. There was nothing else for him here, the graveyard near their old home he considered sacrosanct reminding him of nothing but madness and sorrow.

" _WAIT!_ "

The unusually desperate tone of Albus' voice caused the other wizard to freeze mid-step. He then turned back and faced the speaker with hard staring eyes that never blinked, silent as he waited for the other to continue.

"I… I want to tell you something."

"Save it. Your confessions mean nothing to me," Aberforth said flatly. He desperately wanted to leave, but something shining in Albus' eyes that gave him pause. They shone with guilt. Dangerous guilt.

"Albus… what have you done?" he asked slowly, his eyes narrowing as the muscles in his body unconsciously tensed up.

Albus took a deep breath before taking something small out of the deep folds of his purple robes. He rested the object on the open palm of his hand, almost proffering it towards his brother. It was small, geometrical and glowed in an otherworldly manner; power oozed from it in undulating waves of unseen magic.

"After nearly a century of searching, I've finally found it. _The Resurrection Stone_ ," Albus revealed in a soft whisper, though still loud enough to carry over the silent graveyard to the other wizard, whose face had turned ashen from the momentous revelation, "The stone that is said to grant its wielder power over the realm of undeath."

He then sighed as the glanced downwards a particular tombstone, "With the stone at long last in my possession," he continued in a weary tone, "I came to this very place many moons ago with an intent ignoble by any standards. Foolishly, I tried to–

He got no further as a blur suddenly appeared in front of his face. A fist came out of nowhere, giving him no time to react as it smashed into his face, breaking the bones in his cheek. He tried to recover but a second blow came at his body this time, even harder than the first, causing him to fall to the floor with a pained cry.

" _ **DEMON**_ _, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO OUR SISTER?"_ his younger brother howled in fury, his wild magic manifesting as physical augmentations on his skin as he kept punching the downed wizard with all the physical strength his aged body could muster.

Though the Dumbledores came from a lineage of powerful witches and wizards, Albus had differed from Aberforth when it came to this regard. Where he studied, Aberforth practiced his fists; where he theorized and innovated in the realm of spell creation, Aberforth trained his techniques; where he mastered ancient powers beyond reckoning, Aberforth honed his body to be a living weapon – achieving a singularity between Man and Magic.

Had he not been Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, who constantly carried layers upon layers of protective magic constantly on his physical being, he would've been truly worried about staying in this mortal plane under the brutal assault of the other Dumbledore brother.

Fists imbued with three different types of magic battered hard upon Albus' arms as he shielded his face, each one destroying the films of defensive spells that were intricately interwoven into his clothes. He could feel the burning rage of his brother grow with each hit, the strikes reverberating around his soul in ferocious waves.

" _ANSWER ME_ _, CREATURE OF DARKNESS. WHAT DID YOU DO?"_

"THE STONE DIDN'T WORK!" Albus roared in response, his vast wells of magic automatically rearing up in response the physical abuse – albeit muted from his defensive charms. He also felt his Elder Wand re-energize his body, healing his broken bones and sending an overabundance of unquantifiable magic into his magical core. He quickly quelled the surge of energy and banished it away, for he no intent of harming the only person left in his family.

" _WHAT DO YOU–"_

" **IT. DIDN'T. WORK**!" Albus bellowed louder with emphasis, opting to let a sliver of magic leak out to magically amplify his voice.

The fists paused in their pummelling. There was silence, then laboured breath, then the sound of a heavy body dragging itself to one side.

Then came his brother's voice.

"Why… why must you keep _tormenting_ me so?" came Aberforth's pained croak from beside him.

Hesitantly, Albus brought his hands down once he realized the episode was over, pushing himself up into a sitting position and staring at the pitiful sight of the kneeling wizard beside him. His brother's sallow skin clung to his skull like a wet rag to a rail. Baring unevenly yellowed teeth, his spent fury was fizzling out like the wick of dying candle, growling in a voice seemed more of an animal than that of a human. His matted hair seemed more dishevelled than ever as it shrouded his face in a tangled mess.

"I knew you would get upset, but that was not my intention," Albus informed quietly and in full honesty, "I merely wanted to share with you what I consider my greatest sin."

"…why?"

"Because I want this madness between us to end. For decades, bitterness and hate has consumed your life, as it did mine," Albus replied sorrowfully. Unbidden tears sprang to the corners of his eyes as he bowed his head, saying words he wanted to say his entire life to the person before him. His craven thoughts all but vanished in the light of his next, life-changing words.

"Brother… please… _forgive me_."

Aberforth was about to snarl in anger but stopped at the very last second. There was something off with his brother today. Was he perhaps under a Confundus Charm? No, no person alive could pull that off. Maybe he was under the influence of any potions or spirits? No, that was impossible. All that was left was…

"Lies. Even now, you lie," Aberforth finally responded in a defeated voice, one with no more strength behind it, "You may fool others with that silver tongue of yours, but you forget that in this world, only I know who you truly are."

Albus raised his head and stared straight into the stormy orbs of the other, his suspiciously wet eyes swimming with emotions he had kept bottled up for far too long.

"If that is the case, then you know I am not lying."

Any words Aberforth had planned to say died on his lips. He wanted to keep cursing and screaming at his brother until his voice wore out. He wanted to blame him for Ariana's death. He wanted release from decades and decades of toxic thoughts that clouded his every thought and blinded his every action. But after staring into the heavenly blue eyes of his brother, ones that he knew oh so well, he came to a confusion conclusion.

"You… are not lying?" His tone almost turned questioning at the end of his sentence.

"No. I'm not."

Bewildered by the sudden turn of events, Aberforth uttered just one more word, a word that longed for answers he desperately wanted and needed all his life.

" _Why?_ "

Aberforth unconsciously flinched as his brother leaned forward put his arm around his shoulders, a gesture that was all but new to him. And thus, the next few hours went by as Albus revealed everything to his brother, trusting him as he knew Aberforth was steadfast and devoted to the Light – unlike him.

Albus spilled everything out. Tom Riddle, his political machinations, Horcruxes, forbidden powers he had amassed, cliques he was secretly a part of, the numerous prophecies, his current plans and goals, and even revealing the time-travelling girl that had caused him to change so.

Albus laid his soul bare in front of his brother, causing Aberforth to respond in kind, for the blood of the covenant was thicker than water, was it not?

The bond between the reconciling brothers was by no means healed after they parted ways in the cemetery, but it was a start. To bridge the emotional gap that had been created from decades of fighting, only time could heal the wound. However, unbeknownst to them, the rift was healing at a quicker rate than either of them could anticipate, for Aberforth in his heart had already forgiven his brother many years ago, but had always been too afraid to say it out loud.

One often thinks that forgiveness is weakness, but it's absolutely not; it takes a very strong person to forgive.

Albus stood alone in the graveyard, not moving an inch even after his brother had long departed.

"Say, Ariana," he murmured quietly, finally breaking the silence as he glanced down to her gravestone, "Would you say I was righteous and just? Good enough to witness the awe of Elysium?"

"Or is it too late for me? Am I doomed to walk through the fiery pits of Tartarus for the rest of eternity?"

He then gave a low chuckle, wondering just where all these questions on the philosophy of death were coming from. He gave a soft, almost cathartic sigh as he pooled his vast amounts of magic and prepared to Apparate back to the outskirts of Hogwarts.

He wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but when glanced upwards he noticed a curiously shaped cloud that hung low in the sky. It looked suspiciously like a young girl's face. As the winds of change pushed the oddly shaped cloud out of sight, Albus could've sworn it gave a ghostly smile before vanishing into the heavens for the very last time.

* * *

Ariana was floating like a cloud, weightless… free.

Unfettered from all manner of earthly bonds, she gently levitated under an omnipresent light. Her pains were gone. Her aches were gone. Her fears were gone. There was nothing else left in her system but peace. Raw, undiluted peace.

Her state of mental quiescence was short-lived however, for she soon heard a faint voice calling out to her, causing life to infuse back into her body as she sluggishly lifted her head up.

"… _-arry…"_

She hadn't heard her mother's voice in many years. But the second she heard it she knew it was her, though it sounded far melancholic than in her recollections. With great effort she tried to open her eyes to see what was happening but was forced to close them immediately from a harsh glare of white light.

"M-Mum…?" she whispered with eyes still closed, aware that she was lying down on something divinely soft, "Is that you?"

She flinched when someone touched her hand, but soon relinquished all feelings of uncertainity when she felt the same someone lean forwards to hug her in a way that only a mother could, a hug so tender that it engulfed and raptured her very soul. She tried to return the gesture, her arms wouldn't move for some reason.

"Not yet, Harry," came a voice from above, so softly, so sweetly, so full of love, that the young girl almost burst into tears upon hearing it, " _Not yet_."

Terrified as the warmth started to recede, she summoned every last drop of willpower and sat up forcefully, opening her eyes, " _WHAT IS HAPPEN_ –"

She stopped halfway as her body was wracked by a violent coughing fit. Wheezing and trying to regain composure as the episode abated, she realized immediately that her surroundings had changed. Blinking in confusion, the owlish movements of her head quickly relayed to her that she was in a dark room of some sort; there was no omnipresent light; there was no gentle warmth; there was no hug.

After a second of calming her nerves and analysing the situation, Ariana deducted that she was in some sort of tent. With a start, she realized it was also raining, the melodic pitter-patter of precipitation drawing her to scan the area above her. A tarp above her head showed long tears and wayward holes on their surface, but no water was leaking through, for the rain was inexplicably repelled by some sort of magic. A diffuse light of a stormy evening shone through the droplets, throwing its brindled radiance onto the saturated cloth.

Looking downwards, she also observed that she had been tucked under a thin blanket and was lying on a bed of what seemed like hay. Before she could surmise the whereabouts of her current state of being, a pair of glowing eyes suddenly shone in the darkness, causing her to jump in fright.

Before she could do anything drastic however, the other had already begun speaking.

"How fares thee, Child?" came a euphonious voice, definitely feminine, sounding both old and wise.

The beating of Ariana's heart lessened from the obvious concern laced within the other's words; she weighed the other individual in her mind as she stayed silent for a full minute.

"Am… Am I dead?" she finally asked in a quavering voice, wondering if this was some bastardized version of the afterlife.

As the other took a step forward out from the shadows, Ariana gasped when she realized the smouldering eyes belonged to a large centaur. The stranger, one whose body was adorned with all manner of exotic jewelleries, then knelt down beside her makeshift bed, one that was lined with straw, before replying.

"Nay, Child. You live and breathe yet, as all creatures of this realm do."

There was a pause.

"A member of my clan, Firenze, found you by the castle wall and brought you back to us," the stranger continued informatively, sensing the near palpable desperation that the young witch was emitting in her need of answers, "He said you were a sight most terrible to behold."

The stranger tilted her head, a look of pity crossing her equine-like face, "Did the fall hurt, Child?"

Ariana's brow furrowed as she struggled to remember what she was doing last, "Fall?" she repeated slowly in confusion once her mind failed her, "W-What are you talking about?"

The stranger hummed thoughtfully and gazed down into her forest green eyes.

"Firenze also said something quite extraordinary," the mysterious centaur carried on, ignoring her question as the voice lowered down to a dulcet murmur, one that caused the young witch's ears to tingle, "He said that your broken body suddenly _lit up_ , describing it as magic he had never seen before. You were then miraculously healed, almost wholly, as you can ascertain for yourself right now."

Ariana sucked her breath in sharply as recent memories assaulted her mind, the cogs and spurs in her mind stirring to life as she realized she was still residing in the land of the living.

 _THE FALL._ She remembered with a terrified gasp. _H-how… why… what was I doing…_

She then stilled, temporarily side-tracked as she replayed what the stranger had said last.

 _Hold on… my magic was healing me? Does that mean…_

She immediately looked down at her left wrist. To her sorrow, her entire hand was still blackened – but the curse somehow wasn't spreading any further past the silver bangle on her wrist.

Death it seemed, had other plans for her.

The stranger noticed what she was staring at. "We have bathed you in special oils that are only reserved for the direst of occasions," the centaur explained gently, "They have eased the pain and stopped the spread of Dark for now, has it not?

After a quick pat down, Ariana did indeed realize that all her pains were absent. She also noticed that her Hogwarts robes were nowhere to be seen and she was instead wearing a thin, translucent dress that nearly showed everything underneath. Quickly crossing her legs and folding her arms across her chest in an effort to maintain modesty, she chewed her lip as her thoughts turned inwards.

As her body rocked back and forth in an effort to remember how she got here, she then noticed the most curious thing. Her midnight black hair was longer than she remembered it to be. It used to be only down to the small of her back, but now was cascading down to her waist like a river of molten onyx.

Ariana stilled in terror, as now only one question burned like wildfire in her mind.

"H-How… long was I unconscious for?" she asked in a trembling voice, trying to remain as calm as possible.

After the centaur hesitated, her fears skyrocketed.

" _HOW LONG?"_

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for the slow update. You know how unexpected life is :)

P.S. Thanks for all the (very informative) reviews and enjoy the rest of your day!


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** Hi everyone. I hope you're doing well. Well, this is the final push. Not stopping until this series has ended so I can begin my next one. I've also updated all previous chapters to fix minor grammar mistakes that some of you have kindly pointed out. You guys are the best!

Just a side note. The recent reviews make a good point in saying that Ariana was extremely carefree and trusts too easily in some of the previous chapters. However, remember that those events occurred in conjunction or near to her stay with the Potters, where she was basically spoiled rotten for the first time in her life (thus the lowering of her guard). Also to address the note on Ariana's obliviousness to puberty, its not as if she isn't aware of it, it's just that she has a great many other things on her mind (its not really on her list of important things to address).

Hope this clears things up!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

 **Chapter 33**

Fear.

It is a matter that holds no true form, weaving into the hearts of all. A formless creature trapped in a cage made of flesh, bathed in blood and pure adrenaline. It's the feeling of tightening in your chest. It's the way that when you open your lips, no sound can make it past, or the way it robs you of your senses and replaces it with something that makes your muscle contract and eyes widen in dread.

This was exactly how Ariana James Potter was currently feeling.

After a few seconds of nervous fidgeting and breathless waiting, she quickly realized that the reddish-brown furred Centaur that faced her was refusing to answer her question, so she tried once again.

"How long was I unconscious for?" she repeated faintly, speaking so softly that another decibel lower would've rendered her inaudible.

After a few pregnant seconds of uncomfortable silence, the equine-like creature finally responded, uttering through the stillness of the evening. A strange look of melancholy lay within the mysterious centaur's eyes as it spoke ever so solemnly.

"I suppose in human terms, you've slumbered for nearly… _twelve months_."

Any traces of warmth in Ariana's body abandoned her as quickly as came, feeling as if the world had suddenly gotten old and she was the only person left. From the obvious changes on her pubescent body it was no lie that she had been gone for some time. Only a while ago she'd been laughing gaily with Albus in his office.

It occurred to her in a flash that this must be a nightmare, and perhaps she ought to play along. Even after wave upon wave of rationality hit her like waves upon a rock, she refused to accept what was happening, as if the world would magically right itself. She clenched her fists in balls and shut her eyes, trying hard to conjure up of happy memories, ones of joy and laugher, but none refused to emerge from the dark recesses of her mind.

In an attempt to quell the furious beating of her heart, she took deep, shuddering breaths – but froze at the last second as an old fear violently took hold of her. In times like these, dark voices of hate and suffering would slink stealthily into her mindscape, plaguing her with ghoulish thoughts that weren't her own. Trembling, she held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for the whispers to invariably herald their unholy presence.

Five seconds passed. Then ten. Then twenty. A full minute of tense silence elapsed before she couldn't hold her breath any longer and was forced to let out a breathless gasp before greedily gulping in cool, fresh air.

"The voices… where are they?" Ariana breathed heavily, her chest heaving as eyes darting suspiciously to her left and right at anything and everything in the tent, " _Where are they?"_

A presence she had all forgotten in her fit of madness behind her made itself known once again.

"You hear voices, Child?"

Ariana started from the sound and whirled around to face the other occupant in the tent.

"Yes… sometimes," she hesitantly admitted to the beast, seeing no reason to lie.

The Centaur had a strange look on its face, "Everything is as the prophecies foretold," it murmured softly to itself, "And now that you have awoken, your training can begin."

As Ariana sat there etiolated and confused about the situation, why the voices weren't whispering in her mind, and why everything somehow _looked_ different, a torch suddenly flickered to life within the dusty recesses of her mind. She gasped in shock as she felt the muscles in her body suddenly go stiff and lock in place, causing her to unceremoniously flop back down onto her straw bed like a plastic doll.

Something powerful began to shift within her head, almost as if the endless cords of neurons and synapses in her brain were rewiring themselves. Alongside that feeling, she also experienced a weird twisting in her breast. Her heart felt as if it was gyrating and rotating with such angular velocity that it could rip a hole through her body. She soon realized that it was actually her magical core, one that was now pulsating and fluctuating erratically.

After a full minute of writhing in her bed with locked teeth and clenched fists, the strange episode passed, and with it, breathed forth to life an entirely new person.

When Ariana first entered this new, strange place nearly two and a half years ago, she was a tortured, broken girl who often jumped at her own shadow. Many months down the road, she then came to know family, which in turn bestowed upon her blessing of peace, acceptance and love. Now, after her second resurrection, her metamorphosis, she had unknowingly destroyed the darkness that was lurking in the depths of her body.

This new person had thoughts were hers, goals that were hers, and decisions that were hers. And although the strangeness of it disturbed her, it was also one which offered some comfort. For the very first time in her misbegotten existence, in worlds both past and present, she felt totally in control.

"What is your name?" the young girl said slowly, testing out each word with her tongue. She had found it difficult to speak at the start, as if her tongue was tied in a knot and unloosening with each passing second, "Where are my clothes? Where am I? What is the exact date?" came forth a profusion of questions, each quicker than the last.

Her voice, one that was almost always tremulous, excitable, or emotional, was now calm, cool and calculated.

The Centaur hid a look at the rapid change in mood and behaviour before clearing its throat and replying with absolute clarity. "I am known as Ophelia, young one. I am the Morning Star, the Attendant of the Heart, the Seeker of Desire, and the leader of the clan of Venus," the creature's voice sounded oddly young and was one which obviously belied her real age, as proof from the numerous wrinkles that adorned her face in waves.

"As to your second question–"

"Absolutely fascinating," Ariana interrupted as she tapped her chin, "I didn't know Centaurs lived in clans which followed the celestial bodies of the Solar System, no book I ever read on them ever specified that," she hummed loudly, tilting her head, "Are there any differences in culture between each respective clan?"

Ophelia opened and closed her mouth a few times before she spoke, "This is certainly an unusual one," she murmured under her breath, wondering if it was normal for human younglings to act this carefree upon reawakening from a year-long slumber. She steadily gazed down the young now-teenage girl before continuing.

"I shall answer all questions of lesser import when due, young one. But for now, please hearken unto my voice."

"Nearly thirty full moons ago, many of my kind were suddenly overwhelmed by a tide of prophecies. Scryers, soothsayers, haruspices and oracles alike all reported the same theme in their respective esoterica: the restoration of our people, the once proud race of Centaurs. And it wasn't just us who were freed from our shackles, but all the magical races around the world as well."

"What do you–" Ariana tried to interrupt but Ophelia carried on as if she hadn't spoken.

" _Man is born free; but is everywhere in chains._ You've probably heard that age-old adage. One that purports that humans are gifted with free will at birth but the cage that is society dictates your every move and thought. To the world of Man that saying is often metaphorical rather than figurative, is it not? However, to us, those who share this world alongside you, the Centaurs, Vampires, Werewolves, Pixies, the House-elves, and many more who live, breathe and stand beside your kind, that saying means something else entirely."

The wizened Centaur lowered her massive head and gazed heavily at the young girl, "Do you know why we, the Centaurs and all other creatures, live undisturbed in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Not really," Ariana replied hesitantly, only after a pause to ascertain it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"We live in relative peace under the whim of a single individual, Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, do you know what will happen to us when his lifeforce is eventually extinguished in the unending passage of time? Do you know what his death bodes for my people?"

Ariana shook her head silently.

"We will either be hunted or enslaved, as proven by all other Centaur populations around the world. Even the mightiest of beasts, the elder race of dragons, have been condemned to servitude. They were first kept as potent weapons, then kept as pets, then eventually they were even used in sickening tournaments for the basal pleasure of Man. In the midst of such avarice and rapacity, it was not long before nearly all the dragons been had captured and broken – first their bodies, then their minds. In essence, us sentient creatures of the magical world are born free at birth but are _literally_ in chains everywhere."

Ariana's mouth was dry. So focused was she on saving wizards and witches that she had been blindsided by all those which comprised and made the wizarding world what it actually was. She suddenly felt very small. In her previous life, her ambitions and focus had only been centralized around taking down the current Dark Lord. Her second life however, had changed her viewpoints dramatically.

A few months down the road in collusion with a younger Albus, relevantly gentle persuasion and behind-the-books agreements with Ministry officials, her ideologies on saving the wizarding world soon grew to be much larger than she initially imagined. From initially endeavouring to stop a single man with small-scale skirmishes and guerrilla warfare, she then had her sights turned to politics and the economy.

Her schemes were indeed as grand as she envisioned, ones that including gentrification of the wizarding world – specifically Knockturn Alley, in an effort to reduce the overabundance of latent criminality, amongst other various reasons.

Latent criminality refers to the ratio of _unregistered_ crimes to _registered_ crimes, which was abhorrently apparent when looking at the slums of the magical world. How many times has an Auror glanced down a dark alley, only to turn away in apathy? How many murders and kidnappings have occurred in brightly lit alleyways, only for the witnesses and bystanders to turn away in disinterest?

Although seemingly unimportant to the stability of a country, latent criminality is an indicator of dangerous undercurrents that can eventually lead to destruction of a society. Petty thefts, illegal transportation of magical goods, forgery, numerical manipulations in bookkeeping, and bodily harm are just the start of the atrocities at occur at the lower echelons of the socio-economic spectrum.

The worst part is, the people _living_ in Knockturn Alley themselves were turning a blind eye to these happenings, for they considered this merely to be part and parcel of living under the poverty line. This issue stems from having a low level of trust with the Ministry of Magic, an indifferent view to misery and suffering, and an unwillingness to make society a better place as a whole.

By tearing down Knockturn Alley and rebuilding it anew, the Order had hoped to bring this shadow society to the surface, where the hidden issues of hunger and hardship could be shown as clear as day to the wizarding world, and hopefully, to also inspire kind-hearted wizards and witches to donate a few galleons to those in need of help.

The plan also included introducing a Laissez-faire system, a governing system that promotes entrepreneurship to kickstart the dwindling economy. After that, the Order aimed to grant women the right of suffrage to stymie the growing danger of sufficientarianism, a doctrine that often leads to a denial of an individuals' rights, equality and sufficiency, in a two-for-one blow to fix the wizarding world's anachronistic ways on how it regarded its people.

Auxiliary plans that were to be put in motion after the threat of the Dark Lord had been disposed with – which the Order hoped was sooner rather than later – were the ban of child marriages, abolishing neonatal blood-binding rituals, and creating a new division in the Ministry that deals with the care and protection of children – one that was entirely absent in the wizarding world.

Needless to say, the Order of the Phoenix in the First War was _extremely_ skilled at playing the political game and theorizing socio-economic solutions. This was perhaps the reason why nearly all of its members were wiped out in on the battlefield by Death Eaters. Most of them were not fighters. Their true abilities lie in orating atop podiums, pushing forward policies, or casting their votes as they lobby for changes. This was where the Order in the Second War differed, for all they leaned towards were solely militaristic solutions.

However, it was at this very moment that Ariana realized that she had been thinking of nothing but _humans_ the whole time. Had she thought of the future of Werewolves with the advent of Wolfsbane? Had she thought of integrating Centaurs into the wizarding society after their source of protection had faded? Had she even thought of inducting other magical tribes back into civilization, just as Albus once did long ago for the Goblin race?

The answer, she knew, was a resounding **no**.

Saving people was her _raison d'être_ , just as Hermione had once told her a long time ago _._ But the words that had just issued forth from the Centaur before her was slowly unravelling the threads that kept her upright, crushing her will to persevere as more and more issues piled atop her already burdened soul. After all, she was just a young witch, and what can a single girl do in times of such madness and chaos?

Despite such self-fabricated grievances, the young Potter heiress forgot something very important. She was nothing but _herself_ now, and the hero complex that was ingrained within every generation of Potters suddenly reignited – no, reignited was the wrong word, for the fire had always been lit, guised as a nascent spark under the brazier of her heart.

"I will change all of this," Ariana promised solemnly with eyes ablaze, feeling a strange thrum in her chest as she uttered a line she had said one too many times, "I _can_ change all of this".

"Truly? Would you truly take up that burden? Would you sacrifice your happiness of those of others?" came a disbelieving voice.

"Yes," Ariana instantly responded. The voice that was coming out of her mouth was hers, no one else's but hers. "Up to last year, I didn't have the faintest idea what true happiness felt like. But after meeting my real family for the first time, I finally experienced it… and it was everything I imagined it to be and more. However, I am still willing to give everything up. Mine, for the world."

The Centaur's eyes were wise and tempered with age, eyeing her as a mother would a disappointing child, "Such hubris. Such vanity. Such wistful fantasies for one so young," Ophelia replied critically, "Are you implying that you are somehow responsible for all the wrongdoings of this world? That you alone are the only one that is able restore normality to this wretched world?"

Ariana unconsciously flinched before deflating slightly, "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just –"

"Prove it to me then, show me your resolve, your fortitude, your spirit. Show me the _Fire_."

Ariana had no clue what the Centaur was talking about but somehow knew deep down what the creature was referring to. She instinctively held up a hand upwards in the air and summoned a small, swirling ball of coruscant starlight. The young girl gasped in shock from the action as the characteristic feeling of unpredictability was now all but absent; she was for the first time in total control of her secondary source of magic.

"The kindling of Fire," Ophelia breathed in awe, her board chest heaving at the sight, "The naysayers and their litanies of ash and dust are finally proven wrong. It truly exists then."

Ariana furrowed her brow as she banished the sphere of energy, "Why do you call it fire? I was told by someone… extremely knowledgeable that this type of energy is called Old Magic. It only arises from forces endemic to the flow of nature."

Ophelia snorted in amusement, the lines on her face showing centuries upon centuries of experience, "Do not cite this type of magic to me, girl," she rumbled loudly, "I was _there_ when they were written."

Ariana's eyes lit up in excitement from the reply, "Can you tell me more about it then?" she chattered excitedly, "I've found that when using this sort of magic my core…"

Thus, the young witch and the sentient beast talked deep into the night on a topic a select few in the wizarding world were privy to. Ariana eventually revealed that she could only heal injuries with her Old Magic, something she had concluded after countless hours of experimentation and precariously balancing magical exhaustion against the extremity of the tests she invented. Specifically, she could only heal minor wounds that were inflicted upon _herself_ , not on other people… and certainly nothing too severe like cursed wounds as she found out the hard way.

Of course, even though she was talking incessantly with unfeigned animation, she also very carefully covered up the fact that she was a time-travelling, hero-prophesized, gender-swapped, age-regressed wizard from the future. Nothing too important.

To Ophelia however, this entire case seemed completely bizarre. She had concluded independently that the Magic of Old had somehow bound itself to the young witch's magical core, with the presence of magical fatigue proof of that. Not only was this magical union strange, but that the tight control the young witch had over it. It also a topic that they were currently hotly debating.

"…and I believe that you are not using this Magic to its full potential."

Ariana eyed the other speaker suspiciously, "In what way?"

"Let me ask you this, what is the most important factor when determining the strength of your spellcasting?"

"The intent behind the spell," the young girl instantly replied, the minutiae and nuances of magical framework firmly understood in her mind.

The Centaur stared at her intensely for a few seconds, "What if I told you there was another level of complexity to the magnitude of conventional spellwork?" she revealed lowly. After seeing a fervent nod from the young witch, she continued.

"What I am referring to is the _intent_ behind the _intent_ of a spell. What I mean by that is this: suppose you are trying to heal your mother, who is mortally wounded. The strength behind your spellwork would ultimately be influenced by your desire to keep this person alive, am I right? But then this begs question as to _why?_ Who is this person to you? Why exactly are you trying to keep this particular person alive?"

"In this case, there could be various familial motivations and underlying sentiments and so forth, but it's really at the mercy of your prejudice really. And by that, I mean you have to start with the absolute basics: the relationship between you and your mother."

To say Ariana was perplexed was the understatement of the century, "W-Why is that even relevant to the strength of spells?" she spluttered loudly, "Why do I need to have designs that deep when I cast magic? It also seems entirely infeasible to think up of complex scenarios like that during a fast-paced duel."

Ophelia snorted and folded her arms across her chest, "Wizards and witches unconsciously do this all the time, they just don't know that they're doing it," she replied informatively, "It takes a great willpower to harness this latent energy and incorporate it into your magic."

Ariana was about to reply as a new line of thinking thundered through her head like a train, but a faint hoot from a passing owl gave her pause, suddenly making her acutely aware of her situation. No more did sunshafts of evening light peak shyly into the tent; the silvery glow of luminescence that was encroaching upon her seated body was indicating that it was well past twilight.

With a small start, she then remembered her purpose in life.

The time for idle chatter and philosophical ramblings had come to its end; it was now the time for action. She had so much to do, to meet up with her dear friend Albus again, plan strategies with the Order, explain what had happened to her to new family, and so much more. Temporarily forgetting everything in the world, she wordlessly jumped to her feet and sprinted towards the entrance of the tent – only to be stopped at the very last second by a voice.

" _WAIT!_ " came a urgent shout behind her.

Ariana froze mid-step, her hand an inch away from unfurling the flap that covered the entrance. She then knew exactly what the Centaur was going to refer to; realisation was slowly beginning to sink in about her physical state of self. Her eyes flickered down towards her damaged hand that was hovering in the air. A closer inspection revealed that it was twitching sporadically against her will. A sliver of moonlight that was peeking through the entrance gave her hand an ashen look – not ghostly in appearance, just subdued and greyish.

She was not out of the woods yet.

Ariana slowly turned around and warily made eye contact the other occupant in the tent, only now noticing that beside the large Centaur lay a small pot that was filled to the brim with some sort of liquid, its metallic silhouette shrouded almost entirely in the shadows. After the Centaur made no motion to speak, the young girl broke the silence.

"After I awoke, you mentioned something about special oils that keep this curse from spreading," she said slowly and carefully before motioning with her head towards the pot, "Is that it right there?"

"No, young one. The last of our oils have been used up," Ophelia replied evenly, "Soon, the curse will return, and with it, your eventual demise."

 _Are Centaurs always this dramatic?_ Ariana thought with a fraction of amusement despite the situation.

Her fleeting feeling of levity vanished as the statement fully registered in her mind. "Can't you just make more of this particular oil?" she tried to reason, "If not, can you teach me how to create it?"

The mighty beast shook her large head, "Alas, the healing balm can only concocted through alchemical means during the waning gibbous stages of an equinox."

"Can I have that in English please?" Ariana asked tiredly, growing irritated for the first time at the bombastic manner of speech.

"It means that our supply has run out and it will take three months before we can renew our phials. And judging from the last time I personally applied the oils to your body; I believe the effects will wear off in roughly a day or two."

Ariana pressed her good hand against her head and rubbed her temples wearily. Whenever she was in desperate times like these and needed to rationalize the situation, she would pull herself into her mind and simply ignore everything else. Many minutes passed as thoughts of every nature weaved in and out of her mindscape like fibrous ribbons, each one created and destroyed within rapid succession as each idea was closely analysed before being discarded. She didn't know how much time had passed until a low voice bought her back to reality.

"… _is a way_."

Ariana blinked twice and cleared her mind before focusing on the speaker, "Pardon?"

"I said there is a way to completely heal you."

Ariana narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "So what's the catch?" she replied without missing a beat.

Ophelia gave a small smile, "There is always a price to pay for freedom," the centaur murmured softy, marvelling at the precocious and highly astute girl, "The question is, are you willing to make that sacrifice?"

Ariana stilled. Strangely, yet again, she seemed in total control of her erratic emotions. No more were they highly strung and balanced on egg-shells every single time something out of the ordinary happened. Her brain now listened to her, and her alone. It was also painfully obvious that whatever the Centaur was referring to lay in that pot beside her.

"Tell me what must I do," Ariana said sotto voce, realizing that there was no way out after rationalizing the situation in her mind. If Albus Dumbledore himself couldn't remove this curse, then who could? The least she could do was humour this Centaur.

"It is extremely simple. All you have to do is drink this potion," Ophelia clarified, motioning to the receptacle beside her, "It is an original creation of mine, and is one that I have given to a few of my kin during times of extreme desperation. Its curative powers are unlike anything this world has to offer."

Ariana gave a thought hum from the distinct lack of critical information, "What are the side-effects to this potion?" she asked curiously, addressing the elephant in the room as she realized that whatever this restorative liquid was, it must harbour adverse secondary effects like that of the Skele-Gro potion for example, which has a notably slow and unpleasant bone regrowing process.

"Truthfully, in your case, I do not know," Ophelia admitted as she shook her head, "I have never offered this to a human before."

"If it is pain, then I can handle it," Ariana declared confidently. Her belief was not misplaced, she was no stranger to trials or tribulations.

Ophelia hesitated before giving a deep nod, "I see that you have made your choice," she replied with equal amounts of conviction. She produced a leathery sack from the murky darkness and rooted around in its depths until she finally produced a small wooden bowl. Carefully scooping into the murky blackness of the pot with the bowl, her hand then emerged with the mysterious liquid after a few long seconds.

Under the dim light, the liquid was eerily iridescent. Glinting a darkish grey, it swirled effortlessly around in its concaved confines, the dynamics of the fluid revealing that it had nearly no viscosity at all. Traces of hot steam arose from its surface in long grey wisps that seemed to curl and entwine with dark magical fibres were also being discharged – to her eyes only of course.

The Centaur proffered the bowl, waiting until the person who she had been tending to for almost twelve months had grasped it firmly with their hands.

"Now, _drink."_

Ariana was all logic and cool detachment until the very first drop of liquid touched her lips. The effect was immediate. Without warning, every muscle in her body contracted forcefully as a tide of unadulterated pleasure assaulted her body. With a loud gasp of surprise, she dropped like a stone to the ground as a second wave of pleasure washed over her, causing her writhe in ecstasy on the grassy floor. She felt an unknown force reach down within her and _grasp_ at her soul. Something within her body was changing, but she didn't know what.

She buried her face into the grass to smother her moans, her mind barely conscious enough to register the noises she was emitting. She was shivering violently, her muscles all still locked tight and clenched from a strange invigorating chill that seemed to cover every part of her skin, and one that was refusing to abate.

She was trembling, every part of her body sensitive beyond measure.

"What…. what did you… do… to me?" Ariana panted heavily as she struggled to pull herself off the floor, struggling to articulate her words as she turned her head towards Ophelia's direction. Although she was speaking to the Centaur, her eyes were locked on to the pot that still contained more of this concoction.

She wanted more of this unknown liquid. She craved more. She _needed_ more. She tried to pull herself to her feet but fell back down onto the grass as her still-shaking legs gave out halfway. Undeterred and with blurred vision, she started crawling on all fours to towards the fuzzy image of the vat that contained this mysterious substance.

A low murmur from above her head managed to pierce through the haze that heightened all five of her senses.

"… _the feeling shall soon pass.._."

She didn't really know what was happening all apart from the fact she somehow wasn't getting closer to the pot, and that a large shadowy object was towering over her quivering form. She struggled helplessly against a constricting feeling that kept her limbs bound in place, relishing even in this form of contact due to her hypersensitive skin.

Ariana's world of hedonism and blissful indulgence gradually faded into nothingness as the effects of the liquid eventually began to wear off.

With the beginnings of a conscious thought making its way to the top of her mind, she tried to restore normality to the world. Realizing that the force that was pinning her to the floor had suddenly vanished, she quickly pushed herself into a seating position, blinking as the mist on her eyes lessened with each passing second.

It was as if the young girl had just woken up in an entirely new world.

Before she could do anything, a painless tingling sensation erupted across her body – specifically, her hands, her head, and the entirety of her back. The silver band placed on her wrist that was meant to safeguard her and all those around her from violent outbursts of magic slipped off her wrist as the sensation intensified. Instead of feeling alarmed that Albus' sticking charm had deactivated without a proper reason, she simply sat where she was, her brain churning out hundreds of theories and hypotheses with frightening speed as all the senses in her body were gradually restored to its usual state.

Curiously, she was now aware of the coolness of the air, the loaming fragrance that was emanating from the ground beneath her, the touch of dampness from the morning dew that had saturated the top layer of soil. The tent, which was previously a dimly lit place, was now entirely visible to her. Virescent hued eyes scanned everything and anything as the once pitch blackness was replaced with sombre shades that faded into monochrome.

A low voice beside her broke her out of her ruminations, almost making her jump out of her skin.

"You are now healed of everything, young one."

Ariana's eyebrows were raised impossibly high as she turned toward Ophelia, the momentous claim seemingly too bizarre to be real. The young witch wanted to speak but her tongue felt heavy, as if she had just roused from a heavy slumber.

"What'd you… mean?" she slurred with difficulty.

Ophelia did nothing for a few seconds before pulling out a large rectangular object that housed a reflective surface from behind her. She raised it steadily into the air.

"Look at yourself."

Ariana gave a confused frown but complied with the terse instruction. She shuffled forward on the ground and carefully approached the image of a rather beautiful girl that was gazing right back at her. Her wild curiosities were kindled as she continued staring intensely. Realization finally kicked in when she finally angled her body in an appropriate manner.

" _My scars!_ " she gasped loudly in shock, catching a glimpse of her back clearly through the strange translucent dress she was wearing. She could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Skin that was once was defiled, ugly and war-torn, was now smooth as if she had been born yesterday.

As if a switch had been flipped within her, she jumped up to her feet and furiously tore the dress off her body before planting her feet firmly in front of the mirror, one that the Centaur was patiently holding up for her as she inspected every single part of herself.

The curse that had originated from Marvolo Gaunt's ring had vanished, leaving only a small, untainted hand in its wake. Various scars that littered her body from past experiences, of Quidditch matches, of duels with Slytherins, of potion making accidents, of past excitements, of mysteries and adventures, ones which gave her a unique purpose and drive to keep moving forward, had also all vanished into thin air.

There was one more thing she wanted to check. Nervously, she sucked in her breath and carefully pushed her long hair up to expose porcelain skin under the gentle light.

It was gone.

The scar on her forehead, the one reason for everything good and bad that had ever happened in her life, both past and present, was gone.

"How is this possible?" she wondered out loud to no one in particular, still too stunned to fully process the situation. After a few seconds of thought, her eyes then grew shadowed as she tilted her head to look up at an equine-like head that was staring solemnly back at her.

"How is this possible?" Ariana repeated in a darker tone.

Even in the future, there was no cohesive method to fully heal cursed scars once have been inflicted upon human skin. She remembered Alastor Moody telling her that this was one area of research that not even the Department of Mysteries could solve.

Something was amiss.

Ophelia gave a heaving sigh as she lowered the makeshift mirror she was holding and placed it back down onto the grassy floor. She then began to speak lengthily in detail about a potion that she had created all by herself many decades ago out of absolute necessity.

It was at this moment Ariana felt something very wrong with the core of her being. Not wrong in the sense of physical discomforts or dysphoria, but rather something metaphysical instead. She couldn't even begin to describe it even if she wanted to.

As this was happening, Ophelia was still explaining the details of her original potion.

"…and the final ingredient to the mixture, one that is nearly impossible to obtain without great sacrifice is…"

The Centaur said just two more words.

"… _unicorn blood_."


End file.
